


Nyaaa-Nya-Nya Boo-Boo

by HadenXCharm



Category: Bleach
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Children, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Parenting, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Childhood Sweethearts, Children, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Orphanage, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-04-28 07:24:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 53,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5082922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HadenXCharm/pseuds/HadenXCharm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichigo still hasn't gotten over the death of his mother and has been having trouble making friends. That all changes when another young boy comes into his life, one who seems to have bigger problems than he does. Meanwhile, Ikkaku is on a mission to get Yumichika ungrounded so they can play together again and take care of the stray cat they've adopted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Ikkaku practically danced around on his friend's porch in excitement as he waited for someone to open the door. Kenpachi had handed him the phone earlier and Yumichika's voice had come through, telling him that he had something really cool to show him. Ikkaku was so excited! He'd waited all day to get done with his homework so he could come play, and he wanted to know so bad what the cool thing was.

Maybe a rocket-ship, maybe a dinosaur, maybe a volcano. Maybe a picture of a dinosaur in a rocket-ship blasting  _out_  of a volcano. Or maybe even those ultra-grape flavored pop-rocks in a special-edition package. Oh, Ikkaku couldn't wait anymore, he had to know!

He reigned in his bouncing when the door opened and Yumichika's mother was there. She was a meek, but incredibly beautiful woman, the typical sought-after Asian housewife who was a quiet and serene homemaker who bent to her husband's will. Unfortunately, that also meant that Yumichika was in trouble  _a lot_  and was shown no mercy, since his mother had little influence concerning discipline– of course, this also made her the favorite parent. Ikkaku was shy of her because of how pretty she was, but she was really nice to him and always tried to feed him sweets, so he liked her a lot.

He hoped she would let him in right away. He wanted to get to Yumichika as fast as he could. Ikkaku was ready to play! He had to know about Yumichika's surprise!

"Why, Madarame-kun, you're early," his mother said with a sweet smile and gentle eyes. Ikkaku looked at his toes, fidgeting, cheeks pink. He wondered if she'd seen him pacing the porch and peeking in the window. Geez, he always got so tongue-tied and stupid around Yumichika's mom. The only person he was shyer of was Yumichika's sister. Gosh, was Yumichika's family beautiful.

"Sorry... uh, ma'am," he mumbled, before looking up uncertainly, peeking with just one eye. She was still smiling. He tried to look around her, to see if Yumichika was inside waiting, but he didn't seem to be there. He was probably up in his room. Ikkaku bit his lip; he knew he shouldn't have come early, but he just hadn't been able to help it. "Is it okay if I still come in?" he asked hesitantly.

Yumichika's mom moved back and held her arm out to gesture him in, closing the door behind him. Ikkaku beamed at her, scratching at the back of his head. Geez, Yumichika's dad would've probably made him wait outside until it was time, but Yumichika's mom was always so nice to him. Ikkaku said 'thank you' and practically yanked his shoes off, lining them up really nicely for her, vaguely registering that she'd told him that Yumichika was in his room. Nodding and thanking her again, he raced upstairs like lightning, tearing down the hall.

He and Yumichika had known each other for a couple years now, but had only been close friends for a while. Ikkaku was a nice and well-liked boy in his class, despite his tendency to get angry and violent easily. His attitude was both carefree and serious, both easily excited and provoked. He always had something to say, and although he wasn't the most popular kid, he was certainly not an outsider. Yumichika was the opposite.

Yumichika was that quiet kid in the corner that no one really liked or bothered to talk to – people were mean to him, and he was mean right back. Once Ikkaku had first noticed him – the first time he'd seen Yumichika's face without him poking his nose in a book – he'd been instantly smitten and had made it his mission to win his favor. He'd failed,  _consistently_  so, since Yumichika was a pretty cruel and bitter person and was sure that Ikkaku was just trying to trick him or was just teasing or something. He'd wanted Ikkaku to go away and had said any and everything to achieve that goal, but Ikkaku wouldn't be swayed.

As soon as Ikkaku had convinced Yumichika that he really meant it and was genuine – which had taken quite a while – Yumichika had opened right up to him. Ikkaku had spent the majority of his time with Yumichika from then on, no matter what people said about it; most people didn't make note of it anymore. His friends sometimes still mentioned that it was weird how he was always hanging out with 'that fruity kid' – whatever _that_  meant – but Ikkaku didn't care at all, which was why Yumichika was so devoted to their friendship.

Ikkaku had been discouraged, of course, because Yumichika had been really mean to him at times, but now they were best friends and were completely sweet on each other. All of the rocks thrown at Ikkaku had been worth it, and it had only taken three months of hanging around Yumichika and refusing to leave him alone! It sounded bad, but they both adored each other. Ikkaku was the happiest eleven year old around. He'd been a pretty happy kid  _before_  they'd become friends, but lately, he'd taken to plastering this insane grin on his face no matter what he was doing, and was very playful and upbeat. Even Kenpachi had noticed the change, and liked it when Yumichika was allowed over to their house.

Ikkaku reigned in his enthusiasm when he saw Yuji in the hallway holding his nose dramatically. "Don't go in there," the nine year old said nasally. Ikkaku shrugged, moving past Yumichika's younger brother. That boy wasn't very nice, and was a tattle-tale. Ikkaku didn't even say 'hi' to him more often than not, although Yuji wasn't too bad to play with when they were all forced together.

Ikkaku noticed that Yumichika's rug was out in the hallway, rolled up, and the door was open, which was odder than the rug being outside. Yumichika liked his privacy and never opened the door unless someone was coming or going.

When he made it to the doorway of Yumichika's room, he could hear music coming from an old boombox that one would carry on their shoulder – not that Yumichika's skinny arms could pull that off. It did sort of smell, but like chemicals and cleaning supplies; it stank of  _cleanness_. It must've been chore day.

Yumichika's dad was really strict. Ikkaku didn't understand it, because it was the complete opposite of how things were at his house. They only cleaned when it was unavoidable, like when there were no more dishes or clothes left. Kenpachi loved having Yumichika over – he said that he wished his kids were as clean and polite as him. Ikkaku's room was a 'disaster area', or so Kenpachi claimed, and Yachiru was no better when it came to keeping her clothes clean.

At any rate, it looked like Ikkaku really  _had_  come early if Yumichika was still slaving over his germy floor.

Ikkaku smiled as he peeped around the side of the doorframe, immediately seeing his friend. He came inside the room, hopping over to him, chirping, "Hey-hey, beautiful." Yumichika looked up to him with a grin from where he was on his hands and knees on the floor with a toothpick.

"Uh… Whatcha' doin' there?" Ikkaku asked curiously. He didn't see how that toothpick had to do with chores.

"Cleaning," Yumichika replied, a surgical mask dangling around his neck. "Dirt is the enemy. Stay back," he said with a giggle, keeping Ikkaku away with his socked-foot, as if he were contaminated. Ikkaku just grinned adoringly like Yumichika was the funniest thing, and held out his arms like a zombie, taking a swipe for him to try to tease him.

Yumichika just held him away with his foot and threatened to squirt him with straight-bleach. Ikkaku hunched his shoulders, sulking for a few moments, but no more. "I just wanted a hug," he whined, but smiled, unable to keep a frown on his face. He was just so happy to be here and to see him that he couldn't hide it.

Yumichika had these ridiculous goggles on and was wearing rubber gloves and holding a spray-bottle. He was cleaning sand and dirt out from between the floorboards with a bunch of different scraping tools. Broken toothpicks were in a pile next to him. A ton of his stuff was shoved up on top of his desk and his bed to clear the floor. However, now that Ikkaku was here, Yumichika abandoned his cleaning right away, peeling his gloves off and throwing them in the garbage can. He put his stuff back where it was supposed to be as fast as he could, and then fixed his hair, which had gotten messed up in his hurry. Ikkaku winced to see it was still kind of choppy on one side because of that bad haircut.

"Come see this," Yumichika said with a grin, moving over to a small table next to his desk. He knelt down over there and grabbed some popsicle sticks out of a jar, mixing something. Ikkaku stood behind him, leaning down to get a look. Yumichika looked up to him and gestured him down, so Ikkaku squatted next to him.

"What is it?" he asked eagerly, putting his chin on Yumichika's shoulder, excited about what  _had_ to be the surprise. Yumichika moved a piece of hair behind his ear, almost poking Ikkaku in the face, but he narrowly dodged. The things Yumichika had set out weren't anything like the things Ikkaku had imagined. It looked like a craft to him. Ikkaku's eyes and mouth were open wide. "Tell me, tell me!"

"Look," Yumichika explained, holding up a couple rocks and showing him all the little nail-polish jars he had open. He'd mixed a bunch of colors together and carefully sealed them in an empty paint by number kit. "Friendship bracelets are dumb and ugly, but  _this_  isn't," Yumichika said, handing him one of the rocks. "We can paint our faces on these and then keep them in our pocket, so it's like we're together. Since we're best friends… You know, I just thought that…" Ikkaku listened on in silence to Yumichika's idea and reasoning, which began to break apart and trail off.

When Ikkaku didn't immediately jump in with an exclamation of how good the idea was, Yumichika began to lose confidence, shoulders slumping and causing Ikkaku's chin to dip with it, still resting there. "I dunno', it's stupid," he finally mumbled.

Ikkaku just stared for a minute at the rock in his hand and all the work Yumichika had gone to. "That," he said, "is awesome." Yumichika had looked uncertain at how Ikkaku would react, but when Ikkaku had beamed at the game, he perked right up. "How do I do it?" he asked excitedly, scootching in closer and letting Yumichika show him how to spread the paint.

The kept busy for about an hour, playing around and painting their little rock buddies to look like each other. They did a pretty good job, considering their age, and Yumichika was really careful to keep either of them from making a mess. He'd laid down newspaper and paper-towels all over, and he  _swore_  he'd get back to cleaning as soon as they were done.

Another hour later, they had out a half-finished game of Monopoly and they were playing with some action figures and dolls that Ikkaku had left over at his house last time they'd had a sleepover. He stood on top of Yumichika's bed and hurled one of them down into the pile. " _Divebomb!_ Oh no! Get outta' the way, guy!"

Yumichika flung his arm to the side, moving his little man away, making a fake-yelling noise, "Ahhh!"

Ikkaku's fake-yelling was more like  _real_  yelling. " _Ahhh!"_

"Ahhhhh!"

Ikkaku jumped back on the floor, giggling insanely as he rolled onto his stomach. Yumichika smiled too until Ikkaku's laughter finally subsided with a long happy sigh. His dad said they were too old to be playing with dolls, which was why Yumichika no longer had anything of the sort, but Ikkaku disagreed with that and had brought over his own. Yumichika was glad he did so; playing with Ikkaku made him so happy.

"Hey, are those rocks dry now? I wanna' see them."

"I think so, let me check." Yumichika shuffled back over there on his knees, and Ikkaku took the little Yumichika-rock he was handed.

"Oh, it's pretty, just like you," Ikkaku said, to which Yumichika stuck his nose in the air, trying not to smile. "I think you're a better painter though. The one you did looks like,  _exactly_  like me."

Yumichika looked at the Ikkaku rock, which had been easier to paint, since it was just coated in skin-toned paint, and then with the face drawn on with a precision brush.

"Here, switch with me for a sec'," he said, smiling widely, still with one of his MMA fighter dolls in hand. Yumichika gave him the Ikkaku-rock and pretended to make his own rock walk across the floor. It was just their faces, but they played with them for a while as Yumichika straightened up his room and put his stuff back where it belonged, leaving their toys out. When he was done, he came back to the floor and laid on his stomach, holding his little rock-face and putting his cleaning tools back in a bag.

"Hey, Yumichika, watch this."

"Hm?"

Ikkaku puckered up his lips and made a kissie face, making his rock kiss Yumichika's rock. "Mmmmmwhmmwha-"

"Uhk, stop it," Yumichika laughed, cheeks glowing. Ikkaku kissed the air a couple times, moving in to tease him as if he was going to kiss his face. There came a sudden knock at the door, and Yumichika freaked out and practically threw his own rock in the air in panic. It clattered to the floor and skittered under his bed. Ikkaku nabbed it and hopped on the bed as Yumichika went to the door and cracked it open.

"I smell alcohol. Did you spill something?" Ikkaku heard from Yumichika's father. Darnit, all that yelling from when they'd played earlier had probably reached Yumichika's dad from his home-office. That, or Yuji had snitched on them for some minor offense out of jealousy. Ikkaku zipped his lips and sat there as still as possible even though he couldn't even see the guy like this. That had been a close call.

No doubt that it would've been a  _huge_  issue if Yumichika's dad had seen him puckering up at his son, even if nothing had actually happened. Naomi wasn't allowed to have a boyfriend, even at her age, so if Ikkaku was kissing Yumichika, their parents would be mad. They'd definitely think they weren't old enough, and they'd be separated.

Ikkaku could only imagine being told that they weren't allowed to play together anymore, and he didn't like that idea one bit. He was always on thin ice with Yumichika's dad, playing the how-severe-can-my-disapproval-get-game, but being seen trying to kiss Yumichika when they were only eleven would surely get him thrown out of his life for good.

One could imagine how that had destroyed poor Ikkaku's confidence.

Ikkaku bit his nails a little, anxious about almost having been caught. Yumichika scrambled to his desk and grabbed a bottle of nail polish remover and some wet cotton balls. "It's just this, father," he said, showing him.

"Mm," he heard the flat response.

Ikkaku just sat on the bed, watching Yumichika talk through the crack in the door. The silence went on for a few moments, growing tense, before Ikkaku realized Yumichika's mistake. He remembered with a start that Yumichika had gotten in a lot of trouble for putting nail polish on his fingernails before. Shoot.  _Shoot,_ Yumichika was in trouble. He should have shown his dad the bleach-bottle instead, since that was what had caused the smell in the first place, but he could see that Yumichika hadn't thought that far ahead and was panicking now.

"Show me your hands," came the tone that demanded no argument whatsoever. Yumichika set the bottle on the floor and held out his hands, looking at them and then back to his dad's face several times. "You'd best not be painting your nails again, young man." Yumichika ducked his head, one foot going behind the other absently.

"I was just using some polish for crafting. I had the remover in case I spilled." Apparently, his dad's expression had hardened or he'd raised an eyebrow or something, because Yumichika flipped out a little, waving his hands around in assurance. "I laid down newspaper and everything. I won't make a mess, I promise."

There was a moment of silence, before he heard, "Return your sister's fingernail polish when you're done." Yumichika nodded. "And finish cleaning up; you weren't meant to be playing until you were done with your chores..." His voice didn't exactly soften then, but it became less harsh. "It's almost dinnertime. You may eat in your room if you'd like." With that, Yumichika nodded again and shut the door, slumping against it and sighing. Ikkaku heard the footsteps move away down the hall and down the stairs.

Yumichika looked disappointed, touching his bare fingernails, which had been clipped and filed down to the nub at his father's demands. He then glumly brought his supplies back to the desk and sat down there, putting his face on his hand, slouching.

"Hey," Ikkaku said softly, coming over to him and touching his shoulder a little, trying to bring him out of his mood. "Hey, don't do that." He shook him a little to try to make him stop pouting. Yumichika just flopped forward dramatically, head hitting the desk-top. Ikkaku bit his lip, feeling slightly queasy. Oh, he hated it when Yumichika was sad.

Trying to be comforting, Ikkaku rubbed his shoulder, peeping, "When you're older, you can paint your nails all you want and he won't be able to say no."

Yumichika picked his head up at that thought. Then he smiled deviously. "C'mere, look at this," he finally said, and Ikkaku grinned, glad to see that Yumichika was back to normal.

Yumichika pulled off one sock and then the other, showing Ikkaku his feet and his teal toenails. Ikkaku began laughing wildly, noogieing Yumichika and tickling him until they fell to the floor.

* * *

Ichigo's little hands hit the pavement, palms scraped and bleeding for what had to be the fiftieth time this year.

He tried to get up, but he just fell on his face when he was kicked in the ribs again. He'd gotten his ear boxed today and could only hear them laughing on one side. The other was dulled, like it was full of water.

He didn't know how long it went on, how long he blindly punched and kicked and clawed before he was knocked to the ground for the final time. He didn't get up then, just lying there on the asphalt with his arms protecting his head, vaguely hearing somebody yelling. Then he watched feet running away from him through blurry vision, hardly registering it.

He focused on the pain of breathing for quite some time, blinking until his swimming eyes came into focus again. He tried wiggling his fingers where they were wrapped around his head, and then tested a tender spot just behind his ear, where he'd been hit. The staticky noise in his left ear began to die down, and he realized that it was sort of quiet.

"Ow," he finally croaked when he saw that he was alone. He wiped gravel from his palms and peeled himself off the pavement, sniffling blood. "Owch," he said again, although there was a numb quality to the word. How long had been lying there? The thought didn't register as alarming as he simply dusted himself off. Ichigo sniffed again, feeling blood running down his face, but he didn't think to wipe it.

He got to his feet, staggering and dropping back to his knees, deciding to just sit there. Oh well.

Ichigo just sat and stared for a minute, arms hanging uselessly, hardly registering anything or even thinking. He really had gotten the snot beaten out of him that time. Oh well again. He gave a passive half-shrug, just staring forward, not focusing on anything as his body tried to rest and rebuild some strength. However, he felt no motivation. In fact, he felt it would be okay to just stay here and sit, and never move again. Yes, that was fine.

Ichigo sat there and breathed and didn't blink for a long long time. It felt like a long time, but it probably wasn't. It didn't really matter, did it? His eyes stared forward at the place where the brick wall of the alley met the cruddy black asphalt. Maybe if he found the energy, he'd go over there and lie down by the trash cans. The garbage men would find him eventually.

He lost the will to breathe eventually, just sitting there completely still until his diaphragm moved on its own again, sucking in the tiniest amounts of air, just enough to stay conscious. Ichigo didn't want to move. He hurt, he hurt so bad, and yet he felt absolutely nothing.

Ichigo could hear footsteps, but they didn't fully register in his brain, not alerting him that someone was coming closer. He didn't care about anything. He didn't notice anything. He just wanted to stare at the ground and not move for a while longer.

"Are you okay?" he heard, feeling a hand on his shoulder. He finally came out of his dazed state and looked to his left, not bothering to lift his chin. What met his eyes were some skinny legs, only two of them. They had some scrapes that were peppered with gravel, and there were smears of blood and dirt. The knees were knobby and the ankles were skinny. It was a kid, just one.

Ichigo blinked, eyes half-lidded. He didn't know if this kid was from that gang, but he didn't care very much. What had they even said to him just now? He didn't remember, and he didn't have to answer, so it didn't even matter anyway. Ichigo kept staring at the legs, not caring enough to turn away again. This kid's clothes were so dirty that they looked like they'd had a dust-bath. Their jean-shorts were truly  _threadbare_.

Ichigo looked at the kid's knees for a minute more before he decided he didn't like this person. He didn't like anybody, and he didn't like this one either. He felt a small flare of upset, enough to make him turn away and frown. He didn't know what the kid had said, but he didn't want to talk to them.

"Go away," he said, finally reaching up to wipe at his bloody nose, only to find that it had crusted over. As his mouth moved at last, he immediately tasted the blood that had filled the back of his throat, and swallowed some sick congealed glop.

"Go  _away?!"_  the boy wailed angrily, temper rising alarmingly fast, but Ichigo didn't even flinch at the volume-change, simply licking the scrapes on his palms and arms. The words of the other boy just went in one ear and out the other. He hardly took in anything other than the fact that the voice was angry. Ichigo wanted to be left alone now, but they kept talking.

"Hey, screw you, I just chased them off!" the boy shouted. "Pssh. 'Go away'," he said again in a dark tone, crossing his arms.

"Yeah, leave me alone," Ichigo grumped, truly hoping this kid would just go. Whatever kindness they were trying to do, he didn't want it. They could never truly understand or sympathize with him. Ichigo was all alone, and he wanted the world to just admit that.

"Leave you alone, huh?!" the boy challenged. Ichigo didn't rise to it, not even changing his tone of voice or looking up at them.

"Yeah," he replied, sniffing against a new wave of blood. "You're probably just gonna' make fun of my hair too."

"What's wrong with your hair?" he heard in a flat clueless tone. Ichigo frowned; that wasn't the response he'd expected, and the retort he'd had ready died on his tongue.

He finally looked up to the boy's face, and saw a bright red ponytail. He looked like a rooster, or a pineapple that was the wrong color.

Ichigo knew that the boy could only be about a year older than him. He was a little taller, but pretty skinny, and he was missing some teeth on the sides. He looked tough, and his clothes were absolutely ragged. His eyes were brown. He was…

Ichigo broke out of his staring and scowled instead of saying thank you like his heart had told him to for a second. He didn't like this kid. He was mad now. He was mad at the world. He was mad at  _everyone._  He had been for three years now. "Your hair's even dumber than mine," he said with a bitter frown, turning back away.

"Bu- wh-" he heard the boy sputtering as he stood up. Ichigo's legs wobbled, his thigh muscles quivering, almost sending him crashing back down. Suddenly he felt a hand on his collar, which yanked him around, keeping him from falling. Ichigo hardly even blinked, the violent action not even permeating past his sensory memory. After a moment he mildly noted that he'd been grabbed, but didn't think this was of much concern.

"Hey, I'll beat you up," the boy threatened. "I'm bigger than you, I could make your spit really fly," he warned, even though he was only a  _little_  bigger.

"I don't care," Ichigo said in a voice so quiet that the grip on his collar loosened. He didn't look up however, just staring at the ground, not moving, and eventually the kid let him go, demeanor changing back again.

Ichigo looked up at him to see a small frown on his interesting features; his eyebrows looked like red caterpillars that were trying to kiss each other, all scrunched up together. The kid stepped closer to him, but Ichigo didn't feel like moving back, so he didn't.

The boy gently reached out and touched Ichigo's black eye with a concerned frown. Ichigo knew that look. He didn't want pity. The only thing he wanted was to have his mom back, and all the pity in the world couldn't give that to him, so he didn't want it.

"They really wiped you good, didn't they," he mumbled, and Ichigo pushed his hand away. The boy cupped his cheek, rubbing his sore jaw, which was probably swollen and discolored. "Hey, it's okay," he said in a soothing tone, his touch so gentle and kind. Ichigo was ready to scream.

He didn't want to hear that. He didn't want to hear people ask him if he was alright, if he was okay. He heard that all the time, and he'd learned that the people who asked him that didn't really  _care_. They had in the beginning when his mother had first passed, but as time went on and they started to think he should be getting over things, their sympathy and patience waned. They didn't  _want_  to the hear the truth. They didn't want to hear that he wasn't okay and never would be now that his momma was gone. They wanted him to just say 'yes' and be done with it. They wanted to hear 'yes, I'm fine, everything's fine,' and if they didn't, all they did was try to  _make_ things okay and not understand how he really felt.

It was worse when he actually told the truth, when he admitted that his young heart didn't know how to take so much hurt and loss. When he admitted that he wasn't fine, they became uncomfortable, pitying, reassuring. They didn't know how to handle things, so they told him the biggest and kindest seeming lie. ' _It's okay. It'll be okay. It'll all work out. Everything will look better soon. You'll be okay. It's okay.'_

He was sick of hearing those words. He was  _sick_  of hearing adults tell him that when things  _weren't_  okay. They had no idea how he felt, how alone he was without his mom, how… how…

"It's okay, it happens to me too," the boy said, and Ichigo paused, looking back up to his face, seeing the ghost of a bruise on his temple. He… He got beat up sometimes, too? He knew how it was?… Ichigo felt funny all of a sudden, paying more attention, but only marginally so. "It's okay though, cause' I'm learnin' me how ta' fight."

That sentence had made little sense to Ichigo, but already he felt a sense of kinship between them. The numbness began to recede as he opened his eyes a little wider. They were the same, weren't they? Bright hair, messed-up faces, and great big hea-…

_Ouch…_

Suddenly, the pain came to his attention again. His train of thought cut off as the throbbing aches of his poor bones and skin distracted him.  _Ow_ , he hurt  _all over_. Ichigo raised a hand to his face, wiping his eyes, sniffling a little more blood, and immediately the kid backed off, looking around in alarm.

"Hey, hey, woah, are you crying?" he asked uncomfortably, looking nervous and ready to run off.

"No," Ichigo said, and it was true. His eyes were dry. The red-head wiped his forehead in relief, making an exaggerated 'whew' sound.

"Good." Ichigo looked up slightly, listening, feeling bland and mild, but no longer depersonalized. "Cause' I woulda' been in trouble again." The boy reached behind himself and rubbed his lower back, as if remembering something. He pursed his lips out, looking dejected.

"Hm?" Ichigo replied in half-interest, standing up with distant eyes and a flat depressed attitude that a boy of only eight should never have. He didn't understand how this red kid was so animated and lively if he got beat up all the time and was in such ratty clothes. Ichigo had  _nice_  clothes and he could never bring himself to be even remotely cheerful.

He just wanted to sit in a dark room on his own. He didn't feel like playing or doing anything anymore. He didn't want to go to school. He didn't want to be faced with his dad, who had turned into a complete goof after his mom had died. He didn't want to swing or run or play. All he wanted was to have his mommy back.

"Oh," the red-haired boy said darkly in reply, causing Ichigo's eyes to focus on him, ceasing their aimless drifting. "I tripped this rich kid into the mud on accident and his parents got me in so much trouble. Man, my butt still hurts," he whined, rubbing his bum some more. Ichigo looked on in slight concern, processing his story and the fact that the boy's bottom hurt as a result.

' _Oh,'_  he thought in mild realization. "You got spanked?" Ichigo concluded.

"Yeah," the red boy said miserably, "A lot, and really hard." He pouted for a minute, looking frustrated and regretful. "It was just an accident too! If Ida' known I'd get in trouble so bad, I woulda' done it on purpose," he said, suddenly grinning widely.

Ichigo stared for a minute, before something bubbled up in his throat and came out, like a hiccup or a sob. It felt like throwing up for a moment, but it happened again, and it hurt less the second time. He realized when it persisted that it was laughter, and his cheeks immediately hurt from smiling as the laughter grew. When was the last time he'd done that?

The boy looked at him strangely for a minute, smile fading, mouth open, before he began laughing too. Soon, Ichigo was flopping over, grabbing onto the boy's shoulder, holding his own stomach and giggling insanely until he had cramps.

He could see the boy swallow, and when he finally calmed down, rubbing his cheeks and his face to get the muscle cramps to stop, he watched as the boy fidgeted madly, playing with his fingers and squirming around on his bare feet.

"So, uh… My name's Renji," he introduced himself, looking to him with a sudden scowl, "What's your name, stupid?"

"Ichigo," Ichigo hesitantly said, waiting for the inevitable teasing, or the fruit jokes, or the gay jokes and comparisons of his name to his hair, whatever any of that meant anyways. Renji just melted when he hadn't been rejected, the scowl leaving to make way for a smile, as he held out his hand.

"Yoroshiku!" Renji chirped, doing a bouncy little bow, his hand still extended.

Ichigo stared for a minute, before realizing this was a handshake. "Be good to me too," he replied mechanically, the traditional greeting just slipping out without him having to really think about it. He stuck his bleeding fingers out too and shook Renji's hand, pulling back when Renji held on for a bit too long. "Hey," he complained, scowling and shoving his hands in his armpits, crossing his arms in a pout. Renji just bit his lip like he'd been caught doing something bad, quickly trying to remedy it.

"You feeling a little better? What hurts the most?" Renji asked, touching Ichigo's back a little bit, and Ichigo let him help him ease to the ground and stretch his legs out.

"Right here," Ichigo pointed to a bad scrape on his shin, scratching at his face where blood was drying from when his nose had bled. Renji rubbed at the spot on his leg a little and wiped it with his dusty shirt. Ichigo suddenly realized when he saw the fruit-of-the-loom logo that the shirt had been white at one point, but was now a greyish-brown that he'd been convinced was the real color.

"Better?" Renji asked with concern, looking at Ichigo's skinny, blood-stippled, bruised legs. Mostly, Ichigo just felt this shaky fatigue. The pain didn't bother him so much.

"A little bit."

"Can you walk now?" Renji asked eagerly, trying to pull him up, pausing when Ichigo didn't let himself be dragged to his feet. He just wanted to sit here for a while. He was okay, it didn't hurt that bad, but he just felt like resting. He didn't wanna' do anything, really, other than sit here. Maybe Renji would stay with him here, or maybe not. Ichigo didn't particularly mind either way, but he didn't want to try standing until this gnawing weakness stopped flaring in his tummy. He didn't think he could make it home; he should just sit and wait for a while longer.

"Try walking," the red boy insisted. Ichigo didn't respond. Renji squatted and put his hands under Ichigo's armpits, trying to tow him up, but he only succeeded in getting him half to his feet. Ichigo knees were bent, legs limp, since he wasn't putting any strength in them, allowing himself to be a dead-weight. Renji was left holding him up, groaning from the effort, struggling not to let him crash back down. "C'mon, Ichigo, stand up!" Renji complained, and Ichigo did out of mere surprise. He wobbled on achey legs, Renji holding him to support him, but Ichigo just stared at him in wonder, surprised at hearing his own name.

Renji had remembered.

He was so tired of adults talking about him like he wasn't in the room, like he couldn't hear them. The ones that did talk to him were patronizing and directed most of what they said towards his father. His bullies didn't care to use his real name unless they were insulting it. Renji had just called him by his first name, and so casually too. Not 'Kurosaki-kun', not 'Hey, you', just 'Ichigo'.

Just hearing that turned his heart muscle right on like a light switch and gave him energy.

Right then, he decided that he liked Renji maybe. Only a little.

Renji let go of Ichigo once he stopped swaying on his feet, and Ichigo stood there, just watching Renji with a mild expression. Renji had this weird look on his face, like he couldn't bear to look at Ichigo, but at the same time, couldn't bear to look away. Why were his cheeks flushing? It wasn't cold out here, so…

"Hey, uh… We should play together," Renji said, suddenly scratching at the back of his neck and looking around, even though there was nothing to see but garbage, graffiti, and Ichigo's school supplies strewn on the ground. "Or… I… Pretend I didn't say that," he mumbled, shoulders slumping. Ichigo shrugged.

"I know a good park where the mean kids don't go," Ichigo said, never mind that he hadn't played there in a few years, even though his dad kept taking him and his sisters there anyways. Suddenly, he felt like playing a little bit. Maybe just for a  _little_  while. Renji perked up, but tried to look like he didn't  _really_  care that much.

"That might be cool," he said with his arms crossed.

"We could go there now," Ichigo suggested. Renji uncrossed his arms immediately, looking painfully eager, beaming and bouncing in place.

"Okay!" Suddenly, he halted, his caterpillar eyebrows kissing each other again. "But… are you sure your mom won't be upset if you start playing with me?" he asked with trepidation. Ichigo shook his head numbly, ignoring the little explosion that went off inside his body at that name.

"My dad won't be mad. He's been telling me to get out and play more often anyways. I was just trying to walk home from school, and then…" Ichigo looked up as he got an idea suddenly, "Actually, we can play in my backyard. My dad's still waiting for me to get home, probably."

Renji's eyes bugged out, all semblance of trying to act like he didn't care completely gone. "You have a _backyard?"_ Ichigo flinched back at the volume. He wasn't used to people raising their voices in genuine enthusiasm, sans his father, but was that ever really genuine?

"Well, it's small, but…" Ichigo said awkwardly, tugging on his own arm skin. Renji's reactions startled him. It was just a backyard, no big deal.

"That's so cool!" Renji said, pulling down his eyesockets. He was an inner city boy, and any place that had a yard was a step up from dumpsters and stair-rails as play-equipment. The only grass he usually saw was growing out from between the cracks in the sidewalk. "Can we go there right now?" he asked excitedly, smiling so big that he thought his face would break.

"Yeah, let's just-"

"Okay, c'mon, then!" Renji grabbed his arm and started dragging him any which way, until Ichigo got his rear in gear and picked up his backpack, running along with him towards his house.


	2. Chapter 2

Renji was so nervous. He kept picking at his clothes as his bare feet slapped against the pavement. He looked like a mess, he  _knew_  he did. He looked every bit the street trash, have-not, orphanage-clutter that he was. He just hoped and hoped that Ichigo's mommy and daddy were nice people and would let him at least play on their lawn with Ichigo for a while. He wondered if Rukia had felt this way when she'd seen her new home for the first time. Had she felt unwelcome or out of her element?

Renji really hoped he didn't screw up. He wanted to play with Ichigo so bad; Renji was so lonely, and Ichigo was close to his age. They could have so much fun together. Renji liked him. He was so cute and handsome, and he'd laughed at Renji's joke. Nobody did that now that Rukia was gone.

Most of the kids at the orphanage were older than Renji and were really mean. Most of them smoked already, and the only thing they read were magazines with pictures of naked people – although Renji didn't get why  _anyone_  would want something like  _that._  The younger kids were crybabies or brats. His only good friend, Rukia, had been adopted, and now he had no one to play with except the older kids in his room, and Grimmjow, who was too busy with his buddy, Ulquiorra. Renji got really lonely, and would even succumb to being the punching bag of the older kids just for a chance to tag along with them somewhere. Anything other than being by himself.

But Ichigo was different from them. Ichigo was just like  _Renji._  He was a tough guy and he had bright hair like him. Plus he had a good smile and laughed like a goofball, and Renji liked him already. Ichigo's laughter just made him  _happy._  They could be buddies if Renji just could keep from screwing this up.

He took his hair down and held the rubber band in his teeth as he scooped his ponytail back up and put it in again, making sure all the hair was in place. He flapped his shirt a little, beating it and then coughing and waving through the resulting cloud of dust.

Ichigo led him to a nice neighborhood, and they talked on the way there. It was hard to get Ichigo to chat, since he sounded so bored all the time, but he kept answering Renji's questions all the same, and would sometimes ask his own. Ichigo was eight, he had two little sisters, and his dad was a doctor. They didn't go to the same school. Renji went to a place for underprivileged kids who were way behind the average, while Ichigo went to normal elementary. Renji swallowed and his stomach began sinking as he looked at the nice houses. Some of them had porches, and not a single one had boarded-up windows. Rukia probably lived in a place that was nice like this, maybe even better. Renji started feeling yucky, his shoulders rising about his ears. He didn't belong here. Why had Ichigo brought him here?

When they finally came to Ichigo's front gate, Renji read the name of the clinic, and Ichigo explained that his dad owned it and that his house was attached to it. They went into the small backyard and Renji's eyes sparkled. Grass, a tree, a tire-swing, a patio with patio tiles, and a sliding window door. Just like on TV!

They were still talking about their favorite animals and monster trucks and junk when a man came outside into the yard. He was tall, with black hair, and a beard. Renji clammed up, one foot sliding back as he readied to bolt, but Ichigo immediately introduced him without a hitch, saying, "This is my stupid dad."

"Aw, Ichigo, you hurt daddy's feelings!" Isshin looked to him then, and Renji just stood there stock still, neck tingling, palms itching. "Who's this, Ichigo?" Isshin asked with an uncertain smile, and Renji started to feel a little sick in his tummy. It was that look he always got, like he was trash, something disgusting that no one wanted to touch. He didn't look good enough to be allowed to play with Ichigo, did he. Ichigo's dad was going to ask him to leave, to tell him to 'scram, little bastard,' like all grownups do. Maybe he should just go.

"My friend, Renji," Ichigo said, halting Renji's escape attempt before it started. "We were just about to play some," Ichigo mumbled, seeming irritated and embarrassed. Isshin became really excited for him and hugged Ichigo, getting a kick in the chest.

Renji just stood there biting his lip for a minute. Ichigo had called them friends, and they'd only just met! He felt so warm inside and put his hands on his stomach to try to contain it. He could feel the gaze of the grown man on him, assessing him thoroughly. He should say something, right? Adults like politeness, so he tried really hard to look like a good kid.

"Hi, Ichigo's dad," Renji said meekly, bowing low and then sticking out a hand as high as he could so the adult could take it. "Hajimemashite! Abarai Renji to moshimasu! Yoroshiku onegaishimasu!" Isshin frowned for a minute, making Renji nervous, but it wasn't a bad frown. Then he grinned widely, looking impressed as he shook Renji's hand. He replied with the customary greeting and told him to call him by his first name, which was Isshin.

Renji smiled uncertainly at that, but nodded, fidgeting. His confidence plummeted a second later when Isshin's eyes slid to Ichigo. The man's expression immediately darkened, and Renji's knees began knocking together.

"What happened to you?" Isshin asked in concern and alarm, looking to Renji suspiciously. Oh right, Ichigo was still covered in bruises and cuts and now he comes home with this rough looking kid who may well be who beat him up or  _led_  him to be beat up.

"I'm fine, Dad," Ichigo said dully, almost like a robot. "I'm okay," he insisted as Isshin squatted down to his eye-level and started looking over his arms and legs. He appeared really upset, and Renji was absolutely enamored, his mouth opening up on its own.

Ichigo's dad looked angry, but it was obvious that it wasn't at Ichigo. He was upset and outraged at his son's injuries, and Renji was almost brought to tears by how much Isshin seemed to  _care._  When Renji had tripped that rich boy, the kid's parents had merely looked offended that their child had gotten dirty, but Isshin… Renji felt like crying just seeing how much love a father had for his son. Isshin had that same expression that movie parents did on TV when they love their movie children; he had that same face they do in that TV world where families were perfect, only this was  _real_. Renji had never seen it before. He'd never known that... that it could be real.

Renji swallowed hard, his throat hurting as he tightened his fists up. Ichigo had a daddy who really loved him and cared about him. He bet that Isshin tucked Ichigo in at night and everything, maybe even kissed his forehead. Renji was so jealous.

He blinked rapidly and swallowed a few times against the rush of emotion, reminded that he could never have something like that. Even Rukia had that, maybe, but Renji couldn't. He never could. When people came in to see him, they didn't want to adopt him. He was bad. He wasn't going to get loved like Ichigo and Rukia were. Renji looked away like he'd been burned, listening as Isshin kept asking Ichigo what had happened.

"I said I'm  _fine!_ " Ichigo finally shouted angrily, and Isshin abruptly went quiet. Renji turned to see shock written plainly on the man's face, but he quickly recovered. Ichigo's fury subsided almost immediately, and he went back to that flat emotionless state, paying no heed to his own injuries, simply focusing on averting his eyes from Isshin's gaze.

"Come into the house," Isshin said seriously, and Ichigo scowled, kicking him in the leg, but Isshin nabbed him by the wrist and hauled him in, despite his protests. He picked his struggling son up in his arms, getting hit around the face. Renji just stood there uncertainly, not knowing if he should leave or what.

"You stay out here, young man," Isshin said, making Renji feel so horrible inside that he didn't know how he could handle it. 'Young man'. He always got called that by people like doctors or cops, people who  _had_  to call him that to maintain some semblance of politeness that they didn't feel; they said that when they really meant something much much worse. They called him that with this sick poison in their voices.

Renji cringed, digging his fingers into his stomach, looking at the ground. He couldn't take the disapproval that those words always came with. Isshin must not like him. He must blame him for Ichigo being hurt.

To his surprise, Isshin turned to him with a smile. Suddenly Renji realized Isshin's tone hadn't been harsh at all, that he'd been imagining things. "Don't go away. He'll come play in a minute." Renji just gaped at his smiling face for a minute before Ichigo socked his dad in the eye, so red with embarrassment that he was being  _carried_  inside that he really did almost look like a strawberry.

Renji put his hand on his mouth and bit his nails as Isshin went in the house. Ichigo was gonna' get beat for sure. Isshin was wearing a belt and he was gonna' spank Ichigo for hitting him, right? Oh, Renji couldn't watch! Renji squinted his eyes tight, wanting to close them, but he couldn't help but peek, becoming confused when nothing of the sort happened.

He watched through the window-door as Ichigo was set on the counter. Isshin put ice on Ichigo's face and cleaned his cuts, put bandaids on him and gave him a kiss on his hair. Ichigo kicked him in the leg. Isshin turned him loose in the yard then.

Renji stared at Isshin for a minute with an open mouth. He... he was nice. Renji liked him. He liked his flowery shirt. When he grew up, he was going to dress like that too.

"Ichigo, are you sure you're okay? Daddy will take care of you!"

"I'm okay, just go away now!" Ichigo hollered, cheeks flaring up again. Isshin grinned goofily, like he somehow  _liked_  being shouted at by his own kid. Little did Renji know that Ichigo hadn't so much as batted an eye at anybody for a few years now.

"Well, okay, but you're going to bed early tonight at least." Ichigo humphed. "You kids play nice. Call me if you need anything." Isshin then went back into the house, leaving them be. Renji stared after him in amazement. He looked between the door and Ichigo's bandages several times, still in disbelief over how that had happened. Ichigo had hit his daddy, and then gotten a kiss and a hug!

That someone could take care of you and love you like that just amazed Renji. He'd thought that was a TV thing, because the adults around him never treated him that way. Was Rukia's life like this too now? Oh, he was so jealous. What was he doing wrong that people didn't love him too?

Maybe he'd learn if he and Ichigo spent more time together. Speaking of, he couldn't wait to play! He couldn't believe it, he was allowed to stay here and play!

Renji tried to calm himself down and be as subdued as possible, even though he was tight and frantic with nervous energy. He was just so excited to be here and so happy that he was allowed to stay. Ichigo looked at him with red cheeks, still upset about the perceived humiliation of being taken care of by his dad, but truth be told, Renji was just jealous, but happy for him at the same time. He was glad that he was making at least one friend who had a good life, who had caring people around them. Maybe he could leech off of that somehow. Having Ichigo's dad smile at him had felt really good, even though it made him feel inadequate and undeserving.

He wanted to live up to that approval.

Ichigo sniffed a little, his nose having started and stopped bleeding again while he was in the house. Renji noticed that Ichigo didn't really smile much. In fact, he hadn't smiled one time since that joke he'd made about wanting to trip that boy on purpose.

"I'll push you on the tire swing if you want," Renji offered, "If that's okay." Now that the initial excitement had worn down, Renji felt really out of place. He didn't really know how to act, being at someone else's house. None of the things here were his and he didn't want to be kicked out for acting bad or something. Besides, Ichigo was probably still sore from his boo-boos. Renji tried to be extra nice.

"Want me ta' push you, Ichigo?" he asked again when Ichigo didn't respond, merely picking at the blood under his nose. Isshin had wiped him off with a wet napkin, but there was still a little bit there. "It looks a little high up, but I'll help you get on. Want me ta' push you?"

"No," Ichigo said simply and went quiet, just standing around. Renji began to feel seriously uncomfortable and out of his element. Didn't Ichigo know what to play either?

"What should we do, then?" he prompted, hoping that Ichigo wouldn't say 'watch TV'. That was all they ever did at the orphanage to keep them quiet when they hadn't been kicked outside. Renji was sure he'd seen the same five video tapes a hundred times at least this year alone.

"Hm," Ichigo said in contemplation, brow scrunching. Renji noticed that the muscles there were far too developed, like he was always angry so much that his forehead had bulked up or something. On top of that, Ichigo seemed as confused about how to play now as he did. "I guess I have some toy trucks somewhere," Ichigo finally said, seeming to start remembering things now. "Yeah, I have trucks and crayons and legos... and dolls too," he said more quietly.

Renji brightened right up. He loved coloring. He  _loved_  lego-bricks. He just didn't get to do those things very often. Only when he was at the social services office, and when he was there, you'd best believe something seriously bad had happened, bad enough that he couldn't just enjoy playing.

Suddenly, Ichigo turned around suspiciously, seeing his dad watching them through the curtain with a little smile. Renji frowned balefully. Was Ichigo's dad  _happy_  he was here? Or was he making sure he was being good? Besides, Renji felt guilty now, like he wasn't trusted. Well, Isshin didn't look like he was suspicious, only like he was checking on them or something… He didn't  _look_  like he'd call the cops… maybe.

Ichigo scowled and threw a rock at the side of the house, irritated when Isshin just sipped his coffee and flipped a page of his medical journal, turning away from the window but remaining there. "Rrghh," Ichigo growled. Renji was once again smacked in the face with a wave of emotion that Isshin really did care so much about Ichigo that he wanted to know who he was playing with and if they were gonna' be nice. That was just amazing to Renji. Whenever he tried to tell people about his day or strange kids he'd met, they told him to shut up.

Renji wiggled his toes and swallowed down the tears, and Ichigo sighed, humming thoughtfully. "Maybe we should play outside today," he said flatly, and Renji was vaguely disappointed that he wasn't allowed in the house, but he was still excited about that 'today' part and the fact that he got to play in this yard at all. Maybe if he played  _really_  nice he'd be allowed to come back.

Ichigo looked over to some plastic toys in the grass and then back to Renji, then to the hose nozzle on the side of the house, then to Renji again. He looked like he was trying to work up the energy and motivation to want to play something at all, but Renji waited patiently. Finally, with much reluctance, Ichigo said, "How about a squirt gun fight?"

Renji grinned in excitement, wriggling around, but quickly put out the flame, scowling in anger, knowing that he shouldn't. He hated having his fun ruined, especially now that he was trying to make a new friend. He was so mad. He knew he'd get in trouble if he came back a mess, but he didn't care so much right now. He wanted to play so bad!

"I might get in trouble if I get wet," Renji mumbled, put out.

"Okay," Ichigo said easily, shrugging. Renji pouted to himself, moping, shoulders slumping, and then finally decided, screw it, he wanted to play bad enough that it would be worth it even if he had to take  _it_  again. Maybe he could stay outside and then go in once his clothes weren't wet anymore, as long as that happened before curfew.

"Well, that doesn't matter, cause' I'm gonna' beat you. You won't get me wet, that's how good I'll be!" Renji challenged, and he hadn't realized how dark and lifeless Ichigo's eyes were until they lit up with fire. They were actually a very nice brown.

"Oh yeah?!" the smaller boy shouted, puffing up with anger and most of all _, interest._

"Yeah!" Renji shouted, running to the smaller squirt guns, taking a water pistol in his hands and pumping the trigger once. He frowned, pausing and then popping open the tank and shaking out the old scummy junk when he saw Ichigo doing it too. He'd been about to just jet Ichigo with the water already in the gun, but realized that it probably was bad water. He wouldn't have minded, but Ichigo seemed to, so he copied him and filled the gun up with the hose on the side of the house.

"I'm gonna' get you!" Renji shouted, laughing and running around with Ichigo in the yard, each spraying the other with cold water and having a great time. They both kept cheating and trying to get too close to squirt directly into the other's face, but they'd get beat back by frantic little spurts of water. They'd end up having to go back to the hose to refill at the same time, and even though Renji was usually quicker, he'd always wait a few seconds to let Ichigo finish up before spraying him again.

Their serious competition finally broke into straight up playing, and they'd try to see who could get their gun to go farther, or who could hold their breath the longest, who could stare the longest without laughing or blinking, or who could get water in the other one's mouth from farther away. It turned into somersaults and jumping contests and tag, and by then, Ichigo had forgotten all about his injuries. He hadn't felt this energized in a long time.

Ichigo finally started laughing and running away as Renji tried to get him. Isshin watched from the window as his son and his new friend played together. He was really glad Ichigo was finally starting to come out of his shell. He'd watched with dismay for almost three years, thinking about getting Ichigo therapy or counseling when he'd just turned into an angrier and darker and  _sadder_  kid, but maybe his little sunshine son was still in there somewhere.

It was almost jarring to finally see a smile on his son's face. Isshin watched on in pleased surprise, completely stunned, thinking it was too good to be true. His Ichigo was laughing again.

He just wondered about this kid… He was obviously from the inner city, a rough neighborhood, and Isshin didn't know if  _this_  was the kid that Ichigo should be playing with and using to get himself to a better, more _stable_  place emotionally.

The little guy certainly had manners. Isshin hadn't been expecting a handshake at all, and that had really made a good impression on him, but he still had concerns of course.

Isshin stood up in alarm when Renji tried to grab the back of Ichigo's shirt and Ichigo turned around and blasted him right in the face with the hose, drenching him and making his hair go flat against his head. Renji scowled hard, dripping wet, face turning red with anger, and then he  _shoved_  Ichigo with both hands, almost knocking him over. Ichigo hit him right back, and then Renji pulled his fist back to sock him in the eye like an  _adult_  would. Isshin was about to go out there to get between them, but Renji honest to god started tickling Ichigo and half-picking him up, shaking him around with an aggressive playfulness.

"Stop, stop!" Ichigo screeched, kicking around and laughing his head off, tears in his eyes.

"I won't stop until you apologize!"

"Never!"

"Then I'll never stop!"

"Aaaaah! Dad, help!  _Help me!_ "

Isshin grinned and sat back down in slight relief, shaking his head. Renji was anything but mean. He aimed for Ichigo's face with his water pistol, but he wasn't a rough kid, at least not with Ichigo. They'd gone through wrestling and having shoving contests, but Renji was pretty gentle and obviously didn't want to really hurt Isshin's son. They'd played for almost three hours, and within that time, Renji had helped Ichigo get up each time he'd fallen down in the grass, he'd traded water guns with Ichigo on request, and he'd shown real concern and guilt when he'd zapped Ichigo directly in the eye.

When Renji finally had to leave, he came to the window and knocked on it so he could say thank you before going home, and Isshin decided to let him back in the yard again if Ichigo wanted him to come over again. He wanted to ask some questions about this new kid and discuss it with his son, but he decided to stay out of it when Ichigo drifted inside, eating the sandwich off the plate of dinner he had made him and then just wandered upstairs straight to the bathroom to get ready for bed. His depressed despondent little boy began humming while brushing his teeth, a little song that Masaki had always sang as a lullaby. He looked wiped out, but happy.

Isshin was almost brought to tears at the sight, and went back to his goofy self as he put Ichigo to bed. He had to try to keep his kids' spirits up, even if it meant looking like an idiot. If he could distract them from the pain of losing their mother for even short times, it was worth it.

He knew however that there were some things that he couldn't provide, like the comfort of a peer, someone their age, and he was so glad Ichigo had finally found a friend. Something told him that red-haired boy needed a good influence too. This could turn out for the best.

Rough little inner city boy or not, Renji had made Ichigo smile. Ichigo had started  _playing._ Ichigo hadn't shown interest in anything for a long long time, let alone been even remotely happy.

He hadn't seen Ichigo smile or heard him laugh in a straight three years, and Isshin would do anything to keep whatever had caused it around.

* * *

"Hey, Pretty-kitty," Ikkaku greeted, knocking on Yumichika's door and slipping inside his room, seeing Yumichika at his desk, working away for the science fair.

Ikkaku's project was a potato-powered clock. Yumichika's was about surface tension. It was sometimes hard to believe that they were in the same class. The only time Yumichika  _ever_  did poorly in school was when it came to group projects in which Ikkaku wasn't part of his group. Ikkaku's grades were okay, but he often lost focus or became distracted when in school.

"Hi," Yumichika replied absently, pencil in his mouth. Ikkaku came over to him and put his chin on his hair, looking over the top of his head.

"Another project?" Ikkaku asked. "I thought you were doing a 'tense-face' project."

"Surface tension," Yumichika corrected idly.

"Are you doing  _two_ , then? Can you  _do_  that?"

"Yeah," Yumichika mumbled, writing something and then setting his pencil down with a sigh. "Father thought the first one was no good, so I'm trying again." Ikkaku sat there for a minute with his chin on Yumichika's hair until Yumichika wobbled his head off of him and elbowed his stomach. Ikkaku poked him back before flopping onto the floor and curling up in a ball. He'd stayed up late last night watching pirate movies.

He yawned, smacking his lips and settling in, intent on taking a nap to the comforting sounds of Yumichika's pencil scratching the paper. However, there was a distinct lack of that, and the scratching sound seemed to be coming from the opposite direction. Ikkaku opened his eyes, looking around. What  _was_  that?

"Ikkaku, check out my little friend," Yumichika said suddenly with a sneaky grin, getting on his knees and crawling to the closet. Ikkaku perked up with interest and followed him, crouching down as Yumichika opened the door and got out a big cardboard box that was taped shut, but had a few holes in the sides. He saw little chewing marks, and there was hair all over.

Ikkaku was quiet and watched in amazement as Yumichika opened the top and pulled out the fluffiest cutest kitten he'd ever seen. It was mostly white, with black patches. Ikkaku gasped and 'aw'ed, face scrunching up as he laughed softly and held out a single finger, stroking its back.

It batted at his fingers and made the tiniest sweetest meow; Ikkaku flopped his head onto Yumichika's shoulder, giving a dry sob. "I can't, it's too cute. Put it back."

"Oh stop," Yumichika griped, teasing him right back and cuddling the kitty, rubbing his face on it as it purred. "Its name is Haruki." The two of them played with it for a few minutes.

Ikkaku eventually brought up the point that Yumichika couldn't keep it in here forever. Yumichika's family did not keep animals, and this had been a problem before. Yumichika liked cats and had let them in their yard before only to get in serious trouble.

Yumichika said that he'd just hide it for as long as he could.

Something about that plan didn't seem quite viable to Ikkaku, but his train of thought zipped past the station as his stomach growled. "Oh," Ikkaku suddenly remembered. "I think your dad brought pizza-" Aaand, Yumichika was already gone.

Ikkaku had barely been able to finish the sentence before Yumichika's eyes had gone wide, he'd scrambled to his feet, and was gone out of the room, the door hanging open. Yumichika's family hardly ever got pizza. Ikkaku had it twice a week at his house.

Ikkaku kicked the door pretty much closed and flopped down on Yumichika's bed like he owned it, head sinking into the pillows as he watched the little kitty wander around Yumichika's room. It was so tiny and fluffy, and its little paws were slipping on the hard-wood floor. When it made it to the rug, it began to play and stomp its front feet around on the shag carpeting like it was trying to catch something, looking at the yarn with amazement.

He gave a laugh and then yawned, snuggling his head into the nice-smelling pillows. He fooled around in Yumichika's room until his buddy came back with some paper plates, a few pizza slices, and two cans of pop.

Yumichika hopped next to Ikkaku with his brother's Gameboy, and Ikkaku dug his own out of his back pocket and they played Pokémon for a while as they ate on the bed and talked. "Mm, this pizza is good," Yumichika mumbled appreciatively.

"You want some of mine?" Ikkaku asked, grinning and getting flirty – or as flirty as an eleven-year-old dork can get – trying to feed Yumichika a bite. Yumichika leaned back with pursed lips and narrowed eyes, trying not to smile.

"No way, I-"

Ikkaku scootched closer and put an arm around his shoulder. "C'mon, it's really good, mine's got olives. Want one?" He picked one off and got in real close, bringing it to Yumichika's mouth, saying 'oooh, look, it's so good.' Yumichika was about to start laughing, when the door opened hard enough that it hit the opposite wall with a  _bang._  They were startled so badly that they knocked foreheads and Yumichika almost fell right out of bed.

" _Chonan!"_

Holy crap. Ikkaku jolted back from Yumichika, holding his pizza awkwardly as Yumichika got yelled at _._ Way to ruin the mood. Yumichika flinched and ducked his head, cheeks turning pink. He looked towards his father and then gasped, biting his lip.

"What have I told you about animals in the house?" There Yumichika's dad stood, holding their kitten by the scruff of its neck. All four of its legs stood straight out and its fur was puffed up as it squirmed. Ikkaku's stomach started to hurt. Oh crap.

Yumichika's dad was a very serious guy, and was usually pretty quiet and calm. That is, unless one of his children stepped out of line. Usually Yumichika.  _Always_  Yumichika. He was the middle child, but the oldest son, and as such, he had a lot to live up to the way his dad saw it. Ikkaku felt bad for him a lot, because Kenpachi just told him to do his best but didn't make him feel bad about it if he failed at something. Ikkaku _never_  felt like a disappointment to Kenpachi.

Yumichika just seemed like he was in some sort of trouble  _all_  the time, and it wasn't like he was that bad of a kid. Yumichika's dad was just really strict, and Yumichika did try to please him, but a lot of times he snuck around and did things anyway and then got caught, which made it worse. Ikkaku should start telling Yumichika to not do certain things. He didn't like when Yumichika was in trouble.

"But, I-" Yumichika tried to explain, even though there was nothing to say really. He knew he hadn't been allowed to have a cat, and yet he'd hidden it in the house and had foolishly allowed it to escape. Ikkaku cringed… Oh yeah…  _He_  had let it escape. He'd been the one to not shut the door behind Yumichika when he'd gotten the food. The cat had tried to follow Yumichika, of  _course_  it had. Shoot. Now he felt awful.

"No excuses," Mr. Ayasegawa said darkly with a severe expression, causing Yumichika's mouth to shut hard. Ikkaku could hear his teeth clack together. "You're grounded." That was all he said to Yumichika, although Ikkaku was sure that there would be a serious talk later on after he'd gone home. He swallowed hard as the burning gaze turned on him then. "Madarame-kun, I'm going to ask that you leave within ten minutes. You may finish eating, but you must go home."

Ikkaku nodded, looking at his lap. The door shut sharply.

Yumichika just sat there for a minute, blinking at the closed door. "He's gonna' throw it out," he said dully. "He's gonna' throw it out," he said again louder, as if the horrible thought had finally sunk its claws into him. He got up with a wretched expression and ran downstairs. Ikkaku got up and followed, and he was just in time to see Yumichika at the front door, tearing outside and trying to stop his dad from releasing the cat in the neighbor's yard. It immediately ran off, scared witless, jetting straight across the street through traffic.

Yumichika was in shock, dropping down so that his thighs touched his chest and his hands covered his mouth. A truck had almost squashed his pet. He'd loved that little kitten, but it was gone. So many bad things could happen to it out there, and Yumichika had loved it so much. He'd played with it for a couple days already and he wanted it so bad, but he'd known that this would happen eventually.

Yumichika started crying. Crap, Yumichika was crying. Ikkaku wrung his hands, his stomach seriously starting to really hurt. Yumichika's father told him not to try something like that again or he'd find himself in serious trouble. "Okay," Yumichika croaked and sniffled, trying valiantly to stop his tears as he apologized for disobeying. Yumichika's dad nodded in acknowledgement and went back inside.

Ikkaku patted his friend's back, pulling him into a hug after a minute, letting go like he was burned when he saw Yumichika's dad glaring at him sternly. They went back up to Yumichika's room. Yumichika got in bed, putting his pillow over his head in misery, and Ikkaku took out their garbage as he left. He had to go home, and patted the lump under the blankets in comfort once or twice, still feeling awkward and sad that Yumichika had  _cried._

He scowled as he left the house, staring across the street into the setting sun. He was gonna' find that cat.


	3. Chapter 3

Ikkaku got yelled at by three different sets of people as he stomped through the yards of the suburbs, calling their little kitty's name, not that he thought it would help. Eventually he did find it, stuck inside a bush. He dragged the poor thing out, getting a bunch of scratches from the thorns and quite a few cuss words from the owner of the garden.

"Sorry!" he shouted, carrying the spooked squirming animal with a very firm grip, but not  _too_  firm. "You're coming home with me," he mumbled, petting its raised fur down. Yumichika would be so happy that he'd found their pet! Ikkaku hurried back the few miles to Kenpachi's apartment building and climbed to the third floor, entering their rooms. As soon as the door opened, he was met with a loud screech, but he didn't even flinch, kicking the door shut behind him. The cat jolted, clawing at his chest, scared out of its wits, and he hung onto it for dear life, glaring at the source of the noise.

Yachiru was in her high chair, screaming her head off, her bag of yogurt bites on the floor. Ikkaku went to pick it up to get her to stop, but Kenpachi spoke up from his place in the kitchen, where he was frying ham in a pan and cooking rice in a pot. "Don't pick that up. She keeps throwing it down on purpose and she thinks it's funny, so now it's staying on the floor. Tough shit."

Yachiru screamed and kicked her legs, big sobs coming from her little body, but Ikkaku didn't see any tears on her red face, the faker. "Too bad, so sad, sweet-cheeks. You get another chance tomorrow," Kenpachi grunted, not paying her the least bit of attention. Yachiru eventually stopped crying, which Ikkaku could hear from his room. Or rather, he could hear the absence of her screaming. The ham was probably done.

"Ya' hungry, Slim?" Kenpachi called. "They feed you at Yumichika's house?"

"Yun-yun," Yachiru chirped, recognizing the name and clapping her hands.

"I had pizza," Ikkaku replied distractedly, setting the kitten on the ground. The poor thing was so shell-shocked and scared that it just huddled on the floor, shaking, puffed up. The noise-level probably hadn't been the best thing for it.

Ikkaku left it there on the floor, not wanting to give it contact-overload. He had heard that sometimes little animals died from fear or shock, like hamsters, and he hoped it hadn't been too much for the poor little baby. It wasn't  _that_  little, but little enough that he hoped that the trauma of today didn't make it into a mean skittish cat. He took his formal wear out of the closet and stuffed them into a long-sleeved shirt that he turned inside out, making a nice little bed-pillow for the kitten to sleep on, pleased to see that by that time, the kitten was tentatively moving around, sniffing his room out. It let him pet it and hold it again; Ikkaku stroked it to comfort it and calm it down, cooing into its ear and holding it near his face.

"Was that a cat I saw?" Kenpachi shouted through the house. This happened all the time, but luckily, they had neighbors who didn't care about the racket... Actually, come to think of it, they never  _saw_ any of their neighbors, but they had to be there, right? Because mail kept showing up for them. As Kenpachi's voice boomed through the thin walls, Ikkaku looked down at the cat, biting his lip. Kenpachi had a no-animals rule just like Yumichika's dad.

"Ya'd best fess up, boy." Ikkaku chewed his lip some more, standing up and opening the door to go confess.

One big difference between him and Yumichika was that Yumichika constantly lied to his dad to avoid trouble, while Ikkaku had never been in such a situation with Kenpachi. Ikkaku had spent many uncomfortable moments sweating and gripping whatever was closest to him as he listened to Yumichika seamlessly lie to his father. Ikkaku couldn't understand why Yumichika did it or how he could with such little effort, but then again, Kenpachi was not like Mr. Ayasegawa at all. Maybe if he was, Ikkaku would feel the need to lie too, but he wasn't, so he didn't.

There were no lies in their house, and as a result, Ikkaku wasn't good at hiding things. He was no liar, and as such, he knew there was no way he'd ever be able to hide the cat, especially if Kenpachi had already seen it. So he left his room with the kitty, whispering to it to be  _really really good_  so that Kenpachi would like it. He came out into the kitchen, petting it as calmly as he could, because Kenpachi was loud and intimidating. Ikkaku hardly ever felt scared of Kenpachi, but that was just because he rarely got Kenpachi to that point of anger where he  _would_  get scared.

Ikkaku certainly wasn't an angel by any means. He got yelled at sometimes, but he was a good boy overall. Kenpachi usually put up with his roughhousing and shenanigans relatively well. He was a pretty laid-back parent, actually, so Ikkaku didn't feel the need to lie or hide junk. Still, he tried to keep the baby kitten calm, because he knew that Kenpachi scared people without exactly meaning to – Ikkaku had been reminded of that the first time Yumichika had come over to his house. Kenpachi didn't really have volume control and was naturally intimidating. To a small animal, he was terrifying, and if the kitty got scared, it would seem like a bad cat.

"Yeah, it's a cat," Ikkaku admitted, showing it to Kenpachi by holding it out to him for a moment, then bringing it back to his chest, petting its body. It meowed, poking its head up. Yachiru reached for it, bouncing around. Kenpachi just stared at it mildly, blinking once.

"Cute. Put it outside."

Ikkaku frowned in determination and explained the whole story about how Yumichika had gotten in trouble for keeping it but that he'd been  _really_  upset and worried about the kitty's safety, and that he wanted to take care of it now to make Yumichika happy. Kenpachi made a 'hm' noise in response and put his fist on his mouth in consideration. Ikkaku wiggled his toes in anticipation. Kenpachi hadn't said 'no' right away, he was really thinking about it!

Kenpachi gave the kitten a suspicious look. "You sure it can't be an outside cat?" he finally asked, raising an eyebrow at Ikkaku, who pursed his lips.

"Nope," Ikkaku replied after a moment of thinking, " _Inside-_ cat." Kenpachi narrowed his eyes, but Ikkaku didn't budge. "I don't want it to run away again, or get sick, or lost, or hurt."

"Mm," Kenpachi grunted in response to his point.

Yachiru started making noise and reaching for the cat, pointing at it and squirming around from where she was buckled and  _strapped_  in. She was too good at climbing out of her high-chair, so Kenpachi had basically tied her down like she was in an ejector seat. Ikkaku held the cat defensively, not wanting either of them to take it away.

He would've said 'if you make it sleep outside, so will I!' but he knew that Kenpachi would've made him stick by those words, because he 'wasn't raising no bragging shitty-ass kid who couldn't back his shit up.' So rather than playing the civil-disobedience game, Ikkaku tried to be more humble instead, because he  _liked_  sleeping inside. "Can it stay?" he asked, without that 'pretty-please' tone that drove Kenpachi nuts.

"We can't just take in stray animals, kid. You don't know  _what_  that thing's got," Kenpachi accused, causing Ikkaku to look down at the cat in alarm. "Besides, I ain't running an animal shelter here. If we take in one, you'll find another that you love, and then another. There's an endless amount of stray cats, and you can't give them all a home. If we did, this place would be jungle. You an' Yachiru are enough for me," Kenpachi said bluntly. "I'm not living in a monkey-house any more than this."

"But-" Ikkaku spluttered, going silent immediately when Kenpachi's dark eyes flicked onto him with a warning look. He stopped whining right away and changed his voice. "This isn't a stray cat, it's Yumichika's pet. It's only this one time, I swear."

"You swear, huh," Kenpachi repeated, staring into him. Ikkaku swallowed and nodded, holding up a hand.

"Yeah. Just this one kitty to live with us. Can it  _please_  stay?" Ikkaku asked.

Kenpachi stared at him for a moment longer, thinking it over, and then he finally shrugged, rolling his eyes and turning back to the frying pan he was tossing around. "Sure."

Ikkaku barely restrained a gasp and a leap of joy, beaming, but he quickly jolted back as a finger suddenly pointed in his face. Kenpachi hadn't even turned around to face him again, able to predict his reaction without even looking. "Wipe that grin off your mug. Don't get all excited so quick. There's a catch."

Ikkaku tried hard to frown, but knew that he'd ultimately won. Kenpachi had said yes. Kenpachi turned to look at him then, and Ikkaku eagerly waited for his demands.

"You listen here, tiny." Ikkaku scowled at that, drawing up to his full-height, still holding his cat. Kenpachi looked at him sternly, ticking off on his fingers, dead-serious. "I ain't buying shit for it to eat, I ain't buyin' a litter box, and I ain't payin' for it ta' go to the vet or nothin'. If it's going to live here, it  _has_  to have food, it  _has_  to be clean, and it  _has_  to get its shots, but I'm not paying for  _any_  of that."

Kenpachi leveled him with a challenging glare. "You're taking care of it all on your own, you hear? If you're serious about this, you're buyin' all that stuff yourself." His tone became less harsh then, more expectant. He leaned against the stove, gesturing with his hands and raising an eyebrow. "If you can _do_  that, it can stay. Otherwise, it's gotta' be an outside cat."

"Okay!" Ikkaku chirped, grinning and hugging the cat, taking it back to his room. Yachiru let out a shrill wail after him, her arms reaching out towards the kitten.

Shots, food, toilet-trained, and it could stay. As long as he could keep doing that, it could live with them. Kenpachi had basically made it  _Ikkaku's_  choice whether or not the cat would stay, because it living here now depended on him and his decisions. As long as he maintained his responsibility, his opportunity to have a pet still stood.

"Hey, and tryta' keep it away from Yachiru for a while. She might yank its tail... It's a cute lil' thing, actually. Good find, kid." Ikkaku gave a satisfied nod even though Kenpachi couldn't see him from that distance.

He shut the little kitten in his room to let it calm down for a while, hoping it didn't claw the walls. He planned to buy some catfood and make a toy with a feather and a jingle-bell later. Tomorrow he would get some sand from the park and put it in a shoebox until he could get real cat litter and stuff. He had pocket-money saved up that he could use; he'd bought pretty much all of his own toys. Kenpachi made him work for his money and get all of the stuff he didn't need to live himself. Food, clothes, schooling - Kenpachi paid for that. But toys, gum, soda, or movie rentals - Ikkaku had to work for those things.

"Kenpachi?"

"Mm?"

"Can I feed it just  _one time_  from the fridge?" Ikkaku asked, peeking into the refridgerator for something the cat could eat.

"Thought you were taking care of it on your own," Kenpachi grunted. "What happened to that?"

"Well, it's getting dark out, so I can't go get it some real kitty food until tomorrow." Kenpachi made an uneasy noise, humming at the thought of his kid going to a conbini at dusk on his own,  _and_  that of a poor kitten not being fed for the entirety of two days.

"Alright," he conceded. "Feed it one time from the fridge, but never again. Try salmon or a hotdog," he suggested.

"Oh," Ikkaku said, hand stalling where it had been reaching for the milk and the bread. "I thought you were supposed to put milk into a slice of bread for a cat," he mumbled uncertainly. Maybe he didn't know as much about cats as he'd thought...

"No way, milk'll make it sick."

"Nn," Ikkaku responded, getting out a raw hotdog and cutting it into small pieces. He put those on a paper-plate and took it into his room, setting it near the kitten. It sniffed them and then wandered off. He tried to make it eat, but only after he gave up in a pout and turned away, stomping around, did it go over and start nibbling on the pink meat. Then it went to sleep. Ikkaku blinked, breaking his intent gazing; he'd been watching the little thing for a long time now.

He had to tell Yumichika that he'd found the cat and that everything was going to be fine. He had to call him and tell him!

Ikkaku flung open his door and slid on his socks down the hall after getting a running start, which almost caused him to bang into the wall. He hopped back to the edge of the kitchen where the landline hung on the wall pillar that made up the left half of the kitchen's doorway. He took the phone off the receiver, putting it on his shoulder and swatting the curly cord away while he pecked at the number buttons with his finger.

Kenpachi lounged on the couch, sipping a beer, with Yachiru in a playpen not far away. She usually had to tire herself out to fall asleep, because rocking her or laying her in bed just exhausted the neighborhood. Kenpachi liked to trick her into thinking that she was allowed to stay up and that he wasn't putting her to bed, because she'd konk out all on her own.

"'Tch'you doin', Bozu?" Kenpachi asked with disinterest, glancing at him and then back to his MMA show.

"I ain't no bozu," Ikkaku grumbled, glaring.

"You're 'bozu' if I say you are, Shortie."

"I'm not short!" he hollered, stomping his feet and jumping in place. He was so mad, but he couldn't put down the phone to go over there and clobber Kenpachi. Not that he'd get very far, but that had never stopped him from trying. "I am  _not_  short!" he yelled, red in the face, pointing at his guardian.

"Pssh," Kenpachi scoffed, raising his eyebrows. "Yer' shorter than  _me."_

"You're a man!"

"And  _that's_  why you're 'bozu'."

"Sh!" Ikkaku shushed, practically spitting. Kenpachi gave a low chuckle. Ikkaku plugged one ear and stuck his tongue out as he listened to the dial tone of the phone for a few seconds, finally hearing someone pick up on the other end. He had to talk to Yumichika. He'd been so upset earlier, and Ikkaku wanted to know if he was okay.

"Hey!" he said into the phone, disappointed when he heard Yumichika's father on the other end. Oops. Of course, Yumichika couldn't answer the phone if he was grounded. "Hello. Is Yumichika there?" he asked as politely as he could.

He heard some crackling on the other end, and then, "Is this Madarame-kun?"

"Yep," he replied, listening for an answer.

"Ayasegawa-kun isn't available at this time." Ikkaku blinked for a minute before it clicked. Oh, that meant that Yumichika couldn't come to the phone. 'A-veil-i-bull.' Pssh, dumb word. Just say that he's grounded. Besides that, it took a minute for Yumichika's formal name to catch up to him. He never called Yumichika that. Even Kenpachi didn't. Only their teacher did when they were taking role.

It then dawned on Ikkaku that he was only gonna' be able to see Yumichika at school now for a while.

"… Oh," Ikkaku said in disappointment, slumping and pouting. Then he perked up in hope. Just because Yumichika couldn't have friends over didn't mean he couldn't come to  _his_  house. "Can he still come to my house later?"

"That child is being punished. He has lost the opportunity to spend time with his friends until further notice."

"Why don't you just forgive him?" Ikkaku suggested. "I'm sure he won't do it again."

"I will not tolerate this oppositional, untrustworthy behavior. It's because I've allowed him too  _much_ leeway that he's become so disobedient. It is better that he studies rather than plays. He'll stop getting these sneaky ideas if  _other_  children aren't there to give them to him."

"Don't blame  _him,"_  Ikkaku begged. He knew that Yumichika only snuck around because he felt like he _had_  to.

"Oh, don't worry. I don't," came the terse reply. "No doubt  _you_  had something to do with my son hiding a filthy animal in the house." Ikkaku pulled back and looked at the phone before frowning in offense, realizing that 'other children' had been directed solely at  _him._

"I didn't tell him to do that!" he defended. "He was probably just lonely." Even with Ikkaku around for him, he still knew that Yumichika was very lonesome. Especially at school and at home.

The adult seemed to realize that this wasn't something to discuss with a child and that he was overstepping. Yumichika's dad was a pretty formal guy, but it was obvious he'd been frayed down to the raw nerve today. This was actually the most words he'd ever said to Ikkaku at one time. He must be really steamed. Ikkaku winced at his harsh dismissive tone. "This conversation is over. You've never been a good influence on my son. Before he met you, his grades were excellent."

Ikkaku stood there staring, mouth in a flat and bland line as he blinked once, twice. "So that means if he works harder at school, he can come over some more?" he said after a quiet moment of thought and staring at the wall.

"We'll see," Ikkaku heard, and that was grown-up speak for 'I'll think about it if you don't keep asking me over and over.' That's what it meant with Kenpachi, at least.

"Hmmm," Ikkaku mused, and he heard an exasperated sigh on the other side. He was probably doing that thing where he rubbed his forehead and took off his glasses from stress. "What if he came over to  _study?"_

"The hell are you talkin' to?" Kenpachi whisper-called, having started listening half-way through. Ikkaku made a 'sh' motion, and Kenpachi shrugged in response.

"Hm," Yumichika's father replied, "May I speak to your father?" Ikkaku blinked.

"Huh?" he said dopily, before his brain caught up, because… ' _father?'_ … Who did he… Oh.

_Ohhhh._

"You wanna' talk to Kenpachi?" he realized. He looked over to where his guardian sat on the couch and saw him shaking his head at him and making a threatening throat-slicing motion. Oh yeah, Kenpachi didn't like Mr. Ayasegawa, ever since that open house. Ikkaku didn't know what had happened, but apparently they'd had  _words_  and Kenpachi hadn't liked him ever since.

"Yes. I must have words with him." Ikkaku's eyes slid back to Kenpachi, who dragged his finger across his neck again, glaring at him. Oh dear.

Ikkaku pursed his lips. "He's not here right now," he lied, stuttering slightly, pulling on his ear. Kenpachi's mouth tightened at the corners and his eyes narrowed. His bald kid was a real bad liar.

"You're home alone. I see."

Ikkaku could recognize disapproval when he heard it and panicked a little, "Well, well, no. He's just… uh… he's not a-vell-uh-bull." Kenpachi smacked his own forehead, groaning. Ikkaku scowled, listening for a response and holding the phone with two hands, the curly wire stretching a little too far as he walked around. "He's in the shower right now," Ikkaku amended when the silence stretched on for too long, biting his lip and harshly yanking on his ear.

"I see." Ikkaku waited in the silence for a minute, and Kenpachi was looking at him now, grimacing. "Well, you will see my son at school on Monday, no doubt, so this is goodbye."

"Okay, sorry for calling," Ikkaku said sheepishly, and he really was sorry. He could've done without that weird conversation.

"Goodnight."

"Yep," he said awkwardly, practically slamming the phone back onto the hook-up and groaning, head thrown back, shoulders slumping. That had been so awkward.

"Yer' hopeless, kid," Kenpachi grunted, turning back to the TV. Yachiru snoozed on her mat, curled up in the fetal position on her tummy, head to the floor, rear in the air.

"Hmph," Ikkaku grumped, arms crossed as he went to his bedroom to get ready for sleep. Kitty was in the corner, scratching up his bed-posts, but they looked cooler that way anyways.

* * *

"Lil' fag!"

"Who the fuck bleaches their hair?!"

Ichigo shouted in pain as he was kicked in the head, his ears ringing. He'd long since learned not to respond to their taunting, as it was no use, so he didn't retort, just hitting back as hard as his little body could manage.

"You call that a punch? P-teh!"

Feeling a glob of spit hit his face as he was shoved onto the sidewalk, Ichigo sat there motionless, staring at the ground as he was whacked again with something. However, the boys got bored and walked away after a while longer, seeing that Ichigo was nonresponsive and no longer of any amusement.

Ichigo then gave a long relieved sigh, blinking and staring at the bottom of a street sign. Suddenly, the honking of a horn startled him out of his trance, and he scrambled back from the noise, even though it came from nowhere near him.

He stood up, brushing himself off and picking up his backpack and lunch box, hearing someone driving by and heckling somebody else. They honked a couple more times, shouting, and then he saw Renji near it, covering his ears and trying to walk around it to cross the street. Yep, that was Renji, with the ponytail he always had, and the same clothes. Renji sure had a lot of the same outfit.

Ichigo stood up taller when he saw him, shouldering his backpack and wiping the spit off his face, straightening his clothes out. He noticed the exact moment Renji's eyes found him, because the other boy did a little jump and waved to him, smiling, running away from the car, which drove off at that point, smoke emanating from the open windows.

As he crossed, he got beeped at again, someone shouting out the window at him as they drove past, but Renji didn't pay attention to that, hopping up to Ichigo from the curb. His smile immediately waned as he caught sight of his friend's disheveled state.

"Oh no! What happened?" Renji asked in concern, coming up to him, holding a hand out to touch, but Ichigo took a step away, feeling...  _shame._  He hadn't felt embarrassed in quite some time. It was just... he hadn't cared in a long time whether someone liked him, but he wanted Renji to think he was cool and strong, and he just...  _wasn't._

"Nothin'," Ichigo mumbled. Renji's face flashed recognition at the sight of a smoking blunt on the ground. Ichigo didn't know what it was. Why those kids chewed on burning paper, he didn't understand.

"You got beat up again!" Renji wailed, putting his hands on his shoulders, at which point Ichigo shook his head wildly and waved his hands.

"No, no, no, shut up," Ichigo muttered, "I did not. Let's just go to my house already." Renji was quiet for a minute, following Ichigo as he finished grabbing his things and started walking.

"You were just trying to walk home from school," Renji said in a small voice. "Did you have money? You should just give it to them next time."

Ichigo grit his teeth. "I don't have money." He admitted it then, finding that what happened was just spilling out of him. He... he  _wanted_  to tell someone. No, not just someone. He wanted to share with Renji.

"They say my hair is girly and that they don't like it, so they find me every day and call me names and hit me," Ichigo said bitterly. "I used to go to a dojo and train when I was five. I could kick those guys'es butts if they were my age maybe, but they're not... At least I'd have a chance," he mumbled.

"They think your hair is  _girly?"_  Renji asked, aghast. Ichigo nodded.

"An' gay. They think I made it like this with bleach and color dye, but this is how my hair grows, and it's girly and awful," Ichigo said sourly, waiting for Renji's inevitable agreement.

"Ichigo, don't you  _know?_  It's on a boy's head, so it's boy hair no matter what, even if you have a ponytail or braid in it, like me," Renji replied with conviction. Ichigo blinked in surprise.

"Even if you put in flowers?"

"Yeah, even then. That'd just make you prettier, and that's good. Those guys are just jealous that you're handsome an' pretty and they're not." Renji nodded at his own statement.

"You think..." Ichigo paused, brain rewinding. "You think they're jealous?"

"Yeah, Ichigo. Don't change your hair cause' of them. Don't do what they want. You're good like you are and there are people who'll like it that way," Renji said. "That's how come I don't just buzz-cut  _my_ hair no matter what people say... My..." His eyes became far-off all of a sudden, and he absently tugged on his ponytail. "My friend says the color is pretty, so I don't cut it off anymore. She said I look like a cherry," he mumbled with a blush and a smile.

"It makes you look like a cherry- _pineapple,"_  Ichigo remarked. Renji appeared mortified, taken aback by the statement, but he said nothing, his cheeks reddening further when he didn't perceive Ichigo's words as an attack.

They crossed the street together then, going over the cross-walk towards the residential areas. After walking and chatting for about three minutes, Ichigo had to stop, his wounds bothering him, throbbing with each step. He hissed a little, stretching out his leg, testing his ankle. Renji looked at him with his lower lip sticking out, hands hovering over him awkwardly.

"What hurts? Are you okay?" Renji asked timidly, and for once, the question didn't ignite rage within Ichigo and he found himself telling the truth.

"Ow," he yelped as he touched the knot on his head. "No," he whined in response to Renji's question. "Ah! Ow-ow!"

"Where does it hurt, Ichigo?" Renji wondered, eyebrows pushing together.

"My arm really hurts," Ichigo said, twisting it to try to see the bleeding patch of road rash on the back of it. It really really stung. Ichigo hissed just a tiny bit, turning the flesh to look at it. "Hh- Ah," he whined quietly.

Renji, in an entirely serious manner, said, "Should I kiss it?"

"No," Ichigo said, seeing Renji's face twitch, lip pushing out briefly before the expression of hurt disappeared. "Only moms can do that," Ichigo said somewhat darkly, because he didn't have a mom to do it for him anymore.

"Oh," Renji said quietly, seeming very disappointed and heartbroken. "But... But my friend would do it to me sometimes. She'd make me feel better," Renji interjected, sounding uncertain.

"Only moms can do it the right way," Ichigo asserted. Renji nodded, ashamed, twiddling his fingers.

"Does it really work?" he asked with quiet wonder.

"Yeah, it used to help."

Renji suddenly grabbed his arm and planted a wet one in the middle of the bloody scrape. "Ew!" Ichigo immediately shrieked, "Renji!" Renji didn't let go, still staring at the patch of red exposed flesh, kissing it again. Ichigo tried to yank away, "Yuck, you got spit on me!"

Renji then made a thoughtful hum, holding his arm still so he could lick the scrape in a long strip. Ichigo hopped around, half-laughing, half-moaning from disgust. "Renji!" he snapped, yanking his arm away from him, making a displeased noise at the wet feeling of the saliva, but not wiping it, since that would hurt his owchie even more.

Renji wiped his mouth a little, looking at him intently, not seeming phased by his upset. "Did that help a little?"

"It-" Ichigo paused in his shouting and anger, letting the air out as he realized that... yeah.

"Maybe a little," he admitted grumpily. Renji beamed, snagging his hand as Ichigo began to walk again. "Let's just go home," he grumbled. Renji wriggled with excitement.

The two of them had been playing together a lot. Pretty much every day actually. They would find each other on Ichigo's way home from school... Well, it was closer to the truth to say that Renji would wait around for Ichigo to pass by after school and then  _pretend_  like they'd crossed paths on accident, at which point they would venture to Ichigo's house and play the day away.

Even though they would've liked to go to the park together by now, Isshin wanted them to play at the house, because they were still young and he didn't want them roaming the city on their own. It was probably wise, considering the way Ichigo was bullied, but it was still hard for Renji to accept, because he roamed the city alone all day every day. However, he never got tired of going to Ichigo's house.

That day, when they got back, Ichigo unlatched the gate to let them both in, he set his backpack down, and then turned to Renji, who was practically crawling out of his skin from excitement, hopping in place. Ichigo leaped towards him and they fell to the ground, rolling around and laughing, pinning and tickling each other.

It went by like this for about a week, the backyard wrestling becoming increasingly rougher each day, since Ichigo began healing up, having made it a few days without being clobbered. However, this wasn't to say that their scuffles were anywhere even  _close_  to violent. Perhaps ' _intense'_  was the word.

After one particularly long day of running around in the yard together, Ichigo went to bed and actually fell asleep right away, instead of lying awake and staring at his closet or his ceiling. He slept without dreaming and without waking up in the night, and when he woke up, he sat up.

For the first time since he couldn't  _remember_  when, Ichigo had woken up feeling alert and eager for the day. It felt like he had a reason to be alive again. It felt like he liked himself again.

He worked hard in school that day, itching to get home and meet with Renji. He wanted to keep feeling like this. He wanted to keep his chin up and keep trucking forward. He just had to chase this good feeling, that's all he had to do.

He and Renji met at a bus-stop, and ran from the gang that always lay in wait for Ichigo - and now by extension, Renji too. They outran the lazy teens and made it to the clinic, where they began their typical activities of asking how the other was, how their day had been, just the things that they hadn't been able to ask while running today.

Ichigo found that he actually had things to contribute to the conversation, that he had something to share. He mentioned his lunch, his classmate's joke, his time on the swings at recess. Renji talked about a tanuki stuck in the trashbins on the blacktop, an exploding light-bulb, and a gas-station that had left their ice-cooler open.

They'd then played with some foam pool-noodles as swords, which they never tired from. Eventually that had devolved back into their normal wrestling, and they just horsed around in the grass. At one point, when they took a break, rolling onto their backs, panting, Renji propped himself up on his elbows and looked at Ichigo with a frown.

"What?" he asked challengingly. Renji reached out and touched Ichigo's eye, mentioning that the bruise was still pretty ugly-looking.

From there, they got into the topic of self-defense. Renji wasn't always there when Ichigo was getting his snot forcefully ejected, so he wanted to help him out and tell him how to hold his own until he was at least there to fight with him. Renji knew more tricks than Ichigo did, so he had a bunch of advice to tell him.

After showing him the correct way to punch - thumbs out, one foot back - and how to block his face with his forearms like a boxer, he got into more serious things. Ichigo was immensely interested, almost severely focused, eager to train.

Renji turned around and gently put Ichigo's arm around his neck and told him to hold him like he wanted to hurt him. Ichigo frowned, but tightened his grip a little around Renji's neck, but not tight enough to hurt, obviously.

"Tighter!"

Ichigo pulled his elbow in harder, cutting off Renji's breath slightly, but then easing back when he heard the rasping. Renji then went on to explain. "Good, that's good. Just stay like that." Ichigo nodded, even though Renji couldn't see from that position. "So if you're in a headlock, you wanna' know how big they are. If you think they're your size or smaller, you grab them like this, and flip them over." Renji demonstrated by bringing his arms up and back around Ichigo's own neck, bending over like he was going to flip him. Ichigo freaked out a little when his feet left the ground, but Renji didn't actually complete the toss, setting him back down.

"Don't let go yet," Renji said, and Ichigo nodded, catching his breath, since Renji was a little taller than him and he had to stand on his toes to get a grip on him. "So if they're  _bigger_  than you, you just go like this-" Then he showed Ichigo how to elbow someone in the gut, without actually doing it rough on Ichigo, of course. "You jab them as hard and fast as you can and then you jerk out and run, no matter what."

Renji shook his head then, reciting the words like they were a code. "You don't go back for your money. You don't look to see if they're following. You don't look to see if they have a gun. The only time you stick around is if your buddy is in trouble. Otherwise, you just bail and get out of there."

Ichigo nodded attentively, sitting down in a seiza like he was being taught.

"And if you get kidnapped or you're in a robbery or something and you're a  _hostage_ and you get put in zipties, here's what you do-" Ichigo frowned for a minute, pausing Renji in his enthusiastic description.

"Wait, wait, wait," he said. "What's zipties?"

"It's-" Renji took a breath to explain and then deflated, "Hm." He thought for a minute. "They put 'em on important boxes. Like weed."

"Weeds? Like dandelions?" Ichigo asked in confusion. Renji shook his head, scoffing.

"No! Don't you  _know?_  Like dope!" Ichigo blinked cluelessly, frowning and feeling stupid. Renji sighed, "The stuff you light on fire and then smell. You know, come on, you know," Renji prompted, but Ichigo just shook his head. Renji groaned and then went into further description. "It looks like leaves and it makes you stupid and lazy."

"I dunno' what you're talking about."

"Anyway!" Renji cut off, shaking his hands. "Zipties are these plastic string thingies that you tighten, and you can put them on someone's hands to keep them from escaping. You'd be like this." Renji demonstrated by putting his wrists together and pretending to yank on them, keeping them pressed together as if they were glued.

"If it's for a box or for bad guys, then how do you know about it? Have you got kidnapped before?" Ichigo asked, lip sticking out as his brow furrowed. "Who'd wanna' kidnap  _you?_ "

Renji gave him a really hurt look for a minute, just staring, expression crestfallen. "Nobody," he mumbled, causing Ichigo to put a hand to his mouth, realizing that he'd said something very mean. "The guys just put 'em on me to be funny," he said, looking at the ground.

Ichigo stared for a few minutes, watching Renji just stand there and gaze off into space, thinking to himself. Eventually, he uncomfortably prompted, "So how do you get out of them?"

Renji perked right up, shaking his head slightly. "Well, they're like handcuffs. They get tighter if you squirm around too much, but you  _have_  to squirm some. There's this little plastic bit that fits onto the string part... Hm... It's like the pieces that you put your zipper inside of," he explained. "Anyway, you have to move that piece inbetween your wrists, and then you can get free."

"How?" Ichigo asked, wanting to know.

"You have to go like this." Renji held his jointed wrists over his knee and slammed them down on his leg, splitting them apart. "You try and snap them over your knee like that."

"Did it work?" Ichigo wondered, remembering that Renji had done it before after getting put in them.

"Yeah, but it took a few tries, and it really hurt," Renji said with a pout, hopping around. "When I came outta' there, they were all just watching a dumb movie about naked wrestling. It was so dumb that I went downstairs for some bologna."

"Hm," Ichigo said, nodding and touching his mouth. "What else do you do?" he asked, liking to play-fight Renji. It was just as good as regular fighting and let him get out his anger, but he didn't have to get hurt, because Renji never really  _hit_  him.

"Okay," Renji replied, getting into a fighting stance. Ichigo stood up and they bounced around slightly on their feet, like they were about to fight. "So if he has a knife, what you wanna' do-"

Isshin overheard from where he was at the phone, just inside the sliding patio door. He looked up in concern, some warning bell going off deep in his stomach as he watched the young redhead show Ichigo how to crouch down and dodge, how to block his face and hold his arms up, boxing style. It was all gentle and shown out of care, but still, Isshin began to feel his gut telling him it was off.

Renji had either seen too much, heard too much, or been through too much. Either way, the kid definitely knew some things that he shouldn't.

Isshin bit his lip, torn between whether to tell Ichigo he couldn't see his friend anymore or to let this continue and potentially risk his child.


	4. Chapter 4

"Bye Ichigo!" Renji called one last time, skipping down the sidewalk once his buddy disappeared from sight inside his home. He crossed the street, realizing that the lights were on and that it was dark out... He halted where he stood for a moment, looking over his shoulder.

Gritting his teeth, feeling uneasy, Renji ran through the nice neighborhoods, taking the cross over the busy highway that was the basic divider between the nice half of the city and  _his_  half.

He slowed, his bare feet quieting against the pavement as he walked briskly, but with his chin tucked down. Mind your own business, and people won't fuck with you. Renji winced each time a car rolled past, the headlights blazing into his eyes and then fading out again.

It seemed like ages of walking and avoiding broken glass on the ground before he made it to the familiar steps of the orphanage. The light was off in the front office, so Renji figured he could just sneak in and get straight to bed.

 _They_  didn't care if you were missing all day or even if you were gone overnight, but they did care if you came back late. If others saw you coming in late they might ask questions, questions that could make the orphanage lose funding. If you came in late, they'd beat you within an inch and then send you to bed, and if you did it again, you'd be within a centimeter the next time.

Renji slipped inside, shutting the creaky door and creeping across the dusty linoleum towards the stairwell. He could see one of them inside the side-room where they constantly stayed when it wasn't business hours. They were sipping out of a bottle.

Renji turned back silently and made it to the stairs, putting his foot on the second one, avoiding the squeaky step. The lights went on, flickering slowly around him.

_A rat is scurrying around._

Renji froze, fists clenching, cooking up a lie,  _anything_ to save his skin. "I thought I heard something, so I was just-" Renji shut up as he heard chair legs scrape. His arm was grabbed, and he flinched back. Head scrunched up between his shoulder-blades, he was too surprised and meek to do anything other than let himself be dragged through double doors and down a hallway.

_Back after dark again? I know what will teach you._

"No!" Renji screamed, seized with horror, his body jolting. All semblance of calm was gone as he switched to full-out survival mode. "No, no!" he howled, pleading and begging as he was hauled into the main kitchen. He dropped his weight against the strong arm, but the grip to his wrist wasn't released. He was simply dragged across the floor.

Hands on his arms, hands around his middle. They were holding him, some on his legs, some on his shoulders. He kicked and kicked and kicked, thrashing, but he wasn't strong enough or heavy enough that they would drop him. "Please!  _Please!"_  he begged, falling into a fit of hysterical screams and sobs, tears in his eyes. His heart pounded hard as sheer panic overtook him at the sight of the bottle. A hand tried to muffle his screams.

_No, let him cry for now._ _This'll keep him quiet for a long while._

"No, please! Please!" Renji cried, blubbering as he saw the spoon and the grubby shot-glass. A table-spoon was filled up and emptied into the little cup. He began dry-heaving from the force of his crying. No, he didn't want it, no, no, no, not again.

_Open your mouth._

Renji turned his head wildly to try to avoid the glass, writhing around as his face was grabbed and turned forcibly forward, his mouth pried open. He screamed bloody murder, eyes dilating, muscles locking in utter terror, but then it was over. His mouth was shut and his nose was pinched, and Renji swallowed.

He fell to the ground, choking and coughing and gasping, spitting, but there was nothing left to spit out. He had swallowed it.

_Get._

Renji got. He held his throat, tears running from his eyes as he stumbled to his feet. He hit the wall on his way out, rebounding and falling, but he got back up and ran out. He tore down the hall and into the lobby, up the stairs, and into the bathroom.

He was on fire. His mouth was on fire. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe at all, and he was burning. He was on  _fire_.  _He needed water!_

Renji turned the rusty sink handles with shaky hands, little eeps and gasps coming from his throat as he tried to draw breath, but nothing was coming in. He couldn't even breathe enough to cough. Finally, he got the stuck knob to turn and a spurt of water sprayed into the rust-ringed sink, the pressure feeling like bullets as he immediately shoved his face underneath the faucet.

He drank and drank and swallowed and swallowed, water going up his nose and out again as he coughed and choked and cried, but the water merely cooled his tongue and soothed his throat for a mere instant. He was still on fire, nothing would help but milk, and he had no milk.

Renji eventually couldn't drink anymore, his belly full and bloated. He sat on the bathroom floor and wiped his tongue on his dirty sleeve, coughing like he'd chain-smoked for hours. Tears ran from his eyes and the sniffling certainly didn't help him breathe any better.

Renji finally snorted hard, sucking all of that snot back in and swallowing, the mucus soothing his throat momentarily. It burned, oh, it burned. His tongue felt like it would never taste again, and his throat felt like a desert, hot and hissing. He'd drank so much water, but it hadn't cooled him off; all it was doing was sloshing around inside him with that horrible poison.

Oh... He didn't feel so good.

Standing up and holding his tummy, he ran to the nearest toilet and threw up, all that water coming back up, tinged reddish-orange and fizzing.

Tabasco.

It coming back up with the stomach acid just made the pain flare up even more, his nasal passages and throat seared and left burning. He coughed and sniffled, blowing his nose into his shirt and then flushing the toilet. He took another sip of water and washed his face and runny eyes.

He looked in the mirror blankly, seeing that he looked red, like a pepper. His face was dark pink, and his eyes were bloodshot. At that moment, he couldn't help but hate Ichigo a little, Ichigo and his nice life and the way he knew nothing about how Renji lived, the way he'd played with him for so long and made him so happy that he'd forgotten about the misery he'd return to. He hated Ichigo and he hated himself for wanting more than what he had.

Renji gave himself one last look, trying to sigh, but the sound got stuck and caused him to descend into another hacking fit.

The taste of minerals filled his mouth as he took one last sip from the sink. He never drank that bad water if he could help it.

Renji shuffled out into the hall on the creaky floorboards, hearing squeaking and scratching in the walls. He wandered around in the dark, past many doors and upstairs once again. He saw a cockroach scurry in front of him and under one of the doors, but he kept going, trying to keep his coughing to a minimum.

Finally, he came to the right room, slipping inside and shutting the door behind him. Not making eye contact, he crept to the corner of the comforter closest to the door, sneaking under the dusty smelly thing. Many of the teens sat awake, and got back to talking and mumbling once they lost interest in Renji.

Renji cried silently onto the dirty blanket beneath him, the comforter over his head shielding him from any teasing. He wished Ichigo were here. He wished  _Rukia_  were here. He wanted someone to hug and to pet him and tell him how good he was, that he'd be okay. He wished he had a mommy or a daddy, or somebody who'd come and take him away from this place. All Renji wanted was for someone to love him and for the hurting to stop. He wiped his tongue on the ground, sniffling and crying a little more.

When he'd finally cried himself out and had lain there quietly for a while, breathing carefully, he found that he couldn't sleep. He opened one eye and saw that the boy closest to him under the blanket was Grimmjow, who was also awake, and watching him.

Renji let out a long sigh of relief, body shaking from exertion, but it started him on another rattling coughing fit that he couldn't help. Grimmjow's forehead creased, his blue hair clean and nice-smelling. He had been with Ulquiorra today, then.

They lay there in silence for a long time, Renji coughing occasionally. Eventually, he began humming in short little bursts to comfort himself, wiggling around to try to settle down for sleep. He kept testing his voice out, and it sounded very raspy, and it hurt a lot.

Grimmjow was looking at him under the cover, face neutral, breath quiet. Renji hardly ever saw Grimmjow stay still for anything except being in the bedroom like this, listening to the sound of the fan, the gentle crackle of the crappy TV, and the mutterings and low gasps of the couple dozen other boys in the room with them. Renji too. Whenever he was in here, he just found himself lying still and quiet most of the time. Usually, the two of them ended up next to each other on this blanketed floor, covered and surrounded by sleeping boys, none of them even noticing the rancid smell or the oppressive heat anymore. The whole atmosphere was rather hypnotic, both comforting and depressing. Winter was worse.

Renji got an itch in his throat again, and even though coughing was starting to hurt so bad, he couldn't stop and began hacking and shuddering  _loudly_.

"Hey, shut up!"

Renji did.

He put a hand to his mouth, choking and wheezing, but didn't dare cough once more. He didn't think he could take anything more tonight. The worst would be to make the big boys mad.

Finally, staring back at him in the darkness after Renji ceased coughing softly into his arms, Grimmjow said, "Hope it was worth it, whatever it was."

" _Shut up,"_  came the snapped response immediately, and Renji and Grimmjow's little bodies both seized, not daring to move as they heard a loud slamming noise near them, the splintered floorboards protesting against the violent action.

They lay dead still and frozen for an anxious ten seconds, before the lull of sound began again, and the teenagers got back to whatever they were doing over there.

"It was," Renji croaked back to Grimmjow. Seeing Ichigo would be worth this a hundred times. Grimmjow nodded slightly. The two of them didn't always get along and weren't always nice to each other, but they were the same age and had to stick together somewhat to make it around here.

Grimmjow was awkwardly sympathetic towards him, because although Grimmjow acted up more and did more risky things, Renji was the one who tried to be good and who tried hard in school and who _tried_  to stay on people's good sides. However, it was Renji who always got punished. He was the one who got shamed. He was the one who got that disgusting concoction of chile pepper seeds, tabasco, and horse radish. At least this time, Renji had actually  _done_  something, and something that made the punishment worth it.

"Good," Grimmjow replied in a whisper.

" _That's it,_ " they heard, "Yer' ass is mine." Renji and Grimmjow stared into each other's eyes, both of them frozen, neither so much as breathing. The redhead watched as Grimmjow swallowed hard.

They just clung to each other, hands clasped, but neither of them dared to move or run as they heard the teen stand up. He wasn't kidding this time. Grimmjow's face began to show fear, and his breathing began to speed up and sound forced. His wide eyes flicked around and his lip quivered just slightly as the footsteps came closer.

"You think you're gonna' fuckin' whisper in the corner?  _Huh?_ " Renji jolted slightly from trying not to cough, holding his own mouth shut. Grimmjow's nails dug into the skin of his arms, but neither of them moved an inch, hearts pounding as they stared at each other.

Just as Renji was sure there would be no sleeping for anyone tonight, he heard another deeper voice from the corner, and he just barely refrained from sobbing in relief. It was Coyote.

"Arruruerie, would you give it a rest for once?" A couple others spoke up once the oldest boy expressed his displeasure over the teen's temper.

"Yeah, pass me that blunt." That was Bazz-B.

"Get back over here, man. Leave them kids alone tonight. Little Red got that hot shit poured in his mouth."

There was a growl, and Renji could hear it, low and menacing, so unlike the teen's voice when he was upset, which was terrifying, high, and piercing. "Yeah, that's what I'm goin' for right now. If he's not gonna' go ta' sleep, he might as well be swallowin' hot shit."

"Hah!" There came a burst of wild lecherous laughter. "Yeah, let me get in on that!" That was Gilga.

Grimmjow took a shaky breath, near tears, his eyes darting around wildly like a scared animal, but Renji squeezed his hand, begging in his head that he lie still and not make a sound. Gilga nearly always went after Grimmjow, just like Ronnie came for Renji. At least Ronnie didn't bite him or put out his cigarettes on his back, like with-

Grimmjow whimpered as he heard the floorboard creak, signaling that the tallest kid had stood up. Renji held his hand in a bone-crushing grip, rubbing slightly with his thumb, holding his breath. Grimmjow swallowed hard, lip wobbling, but he lie still.

"They're there in that corner, Gilga. Guess last night didn't wear 'em out enough."

"Heheheheh!"

"Fucking fags," came a disgusted mutter, and then a popping noise, a grunt. Fumbling, scuffling, struggling. Renji licked his lips, trying to quell the itch in his throat.

"Shut up!" Nnoi snapped, some sputtering choking noises coming from nearby. "You're one to talk about fags, you and yer' fuckin' pink hair! You're just jealous you're not getting any!"

"Jealous about not getting any from a fucking eight year old boy? You're a fucking  _faggot_ , that's what!"

"Suck my dick, you twink!" There came some more choking noises and a dragging noise on the floor, then some laughter from Gilga. "Yeah! Hah! See how  _you_ like it!"

"More for me then," Ronnie growled darkly, still advancing towards the two terrified boys under the blanket.

Renji nearly swallowed his own tongue as he heard the clinking of a belt-buckle. They were gonna' get it. He and Grimmjow were really gonna' get it.

"I said  _give it a rest_ ," Coyote said in a dark commanding tone that made their bones freeze. Everyone shut up. "And put that damn thing away," he directed at Ronnie, sounding disgusted.

There was a long tense moment of silence that Renji felt would kill him if it didn't break soon. The burn in his throat was unbearable.

"Che'," they finally heard someone spit. Renji and Grimmjow held each other for dear life, both trembling. Renji eeped as he felt a rough kick to his back. He nearly began coughing again, having been knocked forward into Grimmjow's body, but he didn't dare move from where he'd been thrown, his face pressed into Grimmjow's stomach.

Grimmjow's hands clenched and unclenched, but he didn't move to shove him away either, both of them feeling Arruruerie's eyes on them from above the blanket.

"You little shits better not say another word or I'll make you sorry."

There were a couple groans and scoffs, and a 'like hell' from Starrk, but Renji and Grimmjow didn't move again after that, not even daring to untangle from each other. They lay awake for a long long time and finally fell asleep that way.

They didn't talk about it in the morning.

* * *

Ikkaku's Saturday was great.

He'd spent all weekend going around town getting stuff for his and Yumichika's kitty. He bought it a collar and food, and he made it a nicer bed by stuffing one of his pillowcases full of socks. Kenpachi was going to take him soon to a supermarket so he could actually buy real cat supplies.

He'd tried to get a hold of Yumichika again, but no luck; his mom picked up and wouldn't let him talk to Yumichika.

On Sunday, he hung out with some friends. He didn't have any money left for fast-food, but they shared their fries with him as they loitered around the public park at some picnic tables.

"So yesterday, my dog totally puked  _everywhere!_  It was the grossest thing."

"Yuck! Did you touch it?"

"No, why would I do that?"

Ikkaku then piped up that he'd just adopted a cat with Yumichika, proudly describing it and bragging that Kenpachi was letting him keep it inside and everything.

"Wow, cool!"

"Wait, did you say with  _Yumichika?"_

 _"_ Yeah man, why are you always talking about him? Would you just give it a rest for once?" one of them moaned. Ikkaku frowned.

"It was Yumichika's cat, but it ran away," he explained.

"No wonder it ran away," Ikkaku's buddy said with a laugh. Ikkaku puffed up with anger and grabbed his shirt-collar, but dropped the matter easily once they moved on from the subject. These guys were his friends, but they talked smack about Yumichika sometimes and it got on his nerves.

"Anyways, he's weird, but his mom is  _hot."_ Ikkaku was mortified, blushing a little bit, because... well, they were  _right._  Still, did they have to say it like  _that?_

"Yeah, I've seen her," he said slowly, "She's pretty, I guess."

"What about his sister? Does she have a boyfriend?" the one kid pressed, and now that Ikkaku thought about it, he'd caught him staring at Naomi before, whyever that would be.

"No, their family doesn't allow dating before being grown up," Ikkaku replied absently, stuffing his face on greasy food while they were too distracted by talking about Yumichika's sister and her nice figure.

"Heh'," the boy on Ikkaku's left laughed, jabbing him with his elbow. "I bet you'd go for Yumichika then if you guys were older, huh?"

Ikkaku grinned then, knowing he was being teased, but not caring. "Yeah. You all watch out, cause' he'll be mine once I'm grown up. You guys won't have a chance."

"Psh, whatever, dude. As long as I get his sister."

"Like she'd want you anyways."

"Ha-ha, yeah," Ikkaku said through snickers, bursting into laughter when that poor kid turned bright pink. "She's actually pretty nice, though."

"Aw, yeah,  _get_  it!"

"Peeve off," Ikkaku replied, "and she's really smart, too. Just like Yumichika is!"

"Ughhh!" they all chorused. It was like their buddy couldn't go two minutes without mentioning the other boy that they'd all heard too much about. Ikkaku didn't care. If he couldn't have Yumichika and his friends at the same time, then he was going to make them miserable too.

Speaking of, he wondered how Yumichika was doing, grounded all by himself.

"Let's play kickball, you guys!"

Just like that, Yumichika was put in the back of his mind.

* * *

When Renji came over that Monday after Ichigo was done with school, he seemed sick. Ichigo had actually run home from school, completely avoiding his bullies for once, practically  _bouncing_  as he waited for Renji to get there. He'd been feeling really good lately, really awake and full of energy. When he saw his buddy look so bad, Ichigo immediately was concerned and came to see what was wrong.

Renji's voice was really raspy, he was coughing a lot, and his eyes were pink. Ichigo touched his back. Renji was usually pretty touchy with him, and Ichigo didn't really return it, but this time he was the one to reach out, rubbing a little, because he was getting used to it. He remembered how he'd used to hold hands with his mommy and hug her leg, and touching Renji felt good, just like that.

"What happened?" Ichigo asked, worried that their play time would be ruined. Darn, he'd really felt like playing today. Was Renji sick? Oh no… That was okay! Ichigo's dad was a doctor, so obviously he knew how to take care of him. Maybe a wet towel would work. A cold wet towel and some nice cough drops, that would make Renji feel better. When Ichigo was sick, his dad would lay him on the couch with a towel on his forehead and a blanket on his tummy, and he would take care of him all day. Ichigo could take care of Renji with his dad, and they'd make him feel better. Then they could play again!

"I was late getting back last night," Renji croaked in reply. His voice sounded like a box of nails.

"What happened though?"

"I was late getting back," Renji repeated cluelessly.

Ichigo shook his head in frustration, "But why are you coughing so much?" he asked.

"Oh," Renji acknowledged, devolving into another coughing fit, throat obviously burning as he wiped his pink eyes. "I hadta' take the pepper seeds cause' I was late to get back... on Friday," he finished, coughing a couple more times.

Ichigo frowned. Pepper seeds? Those really really spicy things? "Do you want water?"

"I'm okay, Ichigo, my throat is just sore," Renji said, sniffing, nose starting to run. Ichigo just sat there and frowned in dismay, and Renji began to feel uncomfortable, repeating that he was fine. Eventually he caved to Ichigo's concerned puppy eyes. "Can I have milk?" he ventured awkwardly. Ichigo brightened up and ran in the house to bring his buddy a glass of milk.

Renji's voice sounded a lot better after drinking some, albeit sore, but it wasn't as scratchy and he didn't start coughing as easily. "What do you wanna' do?" Renji finally asked after they'd talked awhile about movies they'd seen, Gojira, and the soccer team Renji wanted to join. Poor Renji's school didn't have money enough for any sports, and the orphanage he stayed at was unequipped to pay for any type of extracurriculars, but Renji really really liked futsal and wanted to play so badly.

After Ichigo had found out that Renji had no parents and went to a bad school, he'd invited him to come over every single day. For the first time, both of them felt like someone knew how they felt, like someone understood how much it hurt, and that somehow soothed the pain.

"I got this fun book the other day," Ichigo informed Renji, who looked up from where he was making a grass braid. They were sitting on the ground across from each other, bare-foot and just talking, since Renji wasn't feeling up to running around today because of his sore throat and achy chest. "It's full of these punch-out cardboard airplanes that we can put together."

When Ichigo had seen it and asked for it, Isshin had immediately bought it for him, simply because Ichigo  _never_  asked for toys anymore. Toys hadn't held an interest for him in a long time, but when he saw them now, all he thought of was all the fun he could have with Renji. He'd wanted those planes so bad, and his dad had said yes right away. He was so eager to try them out. Did Renji think planes were cool?

"One looked like a jet! It was blue and white, and it looked really cool! There's a whole bunch of good ones. We can put them together and fly them."

"Mm," Renji acknowledged, looking up with interest. Ichigo practically bounced around, waiting for an affirmative answer. Finally it was too much and he came out and asked.

"Wanna' do that?"

"Okay," Renji said, smiling and trying to clear his throat, coughing a little and taking another sip of milk. Ichigo ran into the house to get his book out, turning to a specific plane, one of the best ones in the back that he'd been saving for just such an occasion. This one had its pieces made from a sheet of hard foam.

When Ichigo hurried back outside, Isshin wandered after, sitting on a lawn chair to enjoy the weather as the boys sat in the grass together.

"The pieces break kinda' easy, so try'n be careful," Ichigo said, popping some of the little bits out and handing them to Renji, who looked at them in confusion, at a complete loss. No one had ever given him something like this. He didn't know how to do it.

"How do I…" Renji's tongue poked out as he put two unrelated pieces together. They fit, but they obviously weren't meant to be together. He looked up uncertainly to Ichigo, and then back down to it, putting another piece on.

"No, that's not right." Ichigo took the plane. "Lemme' show you." He got in close and pointed out all the little letters and numbers inside of the foam knotches. "You have to match the numbers, see?"

"Okay, I got it now," Renji said, nodding and starting to put it together as Ichigo took the pieces out for him. Ichigo kept trying to help and pointed out where things went, but Renji told him he could do it, even if it took him a minute to figure out, so Ichigo focused on his job instead. "I like these colors. You picked a good one." Ichigo smiled. Yeah, he  _loved_  yellow and red.

"I wonder if it flies any good. Maybe it just looks cool so that we won't hate it even if it flies bad." Renji laughed at that and Ichigo grinned. Renji thought he was funny. Nobody had really smiled or laughed at the things he said since his mother had been alive.

Soon they were done, and Ichigo let Renji be the first one to throw it, since he'd put it together and everything. Renji smiled and threw it gently but firmly, aiming for the fence, which it sailed over to and hit, then falling to the ground. They looked at each other and grinned at their success, and then they had the traditional 'who-can-get-it-to-go-farther' competition.

They kept topping each other's feats, and the next win was Ichigo's, since he landed it all the way across the lawn. "Okay, okay, okay, watch this, I'm gonna' beat that," Renji said raspily. Ichigo grinned in anticipation, fists tightening up as he watched from near Renji's shoulder.

Renji really threw it that time, and it flew over their heads and got itself firmly stuck in the tree in the yard. They tried to reach for it, but it was hopeless. "Aw, damnit! It's so far away," Renji said, lip sticking out.

"Renji, that's swearing," Isshin said calmly, but sternly, looking up from his reading. "We don't talk like that around here."

Ichigo looked between them silently, and Renji put a hand to his mouth in surprise, head going down as he realized what had slipped out. He felt so bad, he felt like Isshin hated him now. Nothing made him feel worse than being a disappointment.

"Oh…" Renji mumbled, looking at his feet, brow scrunching up. "Oh, I'm sorry. I won't do it again!" he promised desperately, looking to Isshin in woe and hoping that he wasn't going to be kicked out.

"See that you don't. I'm trusting you," Isshin replied, less harshly. Renji was quieter for a while, until he and Ichigo got back into a game of kicking a ball back and forth across the yard and he forgot his slip-up.

Later they had a barbecue in the backyard so that Renji could stay for dinner. He still wasn't allowed in the house, which Ichigo wasn't happy about, but at least Isshin had invited Renji to stay for a meal. Yuzu and Karin met him for the first time and immediately loved him. At least Yuzu did, while Karin was suspicious, but still glad that her brother had invited a new friend over for once. Renji was a little blushy around them, and cautious too, wondering if it was okay to hug them or play with them, but Isshin seemed fine with it. They were only four, but they sure could talk. Renji liked them a lot.

He and Ichigo and the girls stayed outside at the patio table while Isshin went in for condiments. Ichigo brought silverware and they all set the table, and he and Renji peeked at the grill even though they weren't supposed to. They horsed around in the yard for a little bit, and the girls were overjoyed, joining in. Their older brother  _never_  played to their knowledge, and it made them excited to see him acting happier.

Ichigo  _was_  happier.

He sat next to Renji at the table and talked with his mouth full, laughing when the other boy got ketchup and mustard on his face. Renji ate so many hotdogs that he almost threw up, but he kept it down, holding his belly. Ichigo stopped when he got full, but Renji didn't seem to have an off-switch. If there was food out that he was allowed to have, he crammed it right in. Now that Ichigo thought about it, Renji's stomach was always growling whenever they were together. Eventually Isshin had to tell Renji that was enough or he was gonna' pop. The twins thought that was pretty funny and giggled for a few minutes.

Ichigo waved goodbye to Renji as he left. Renji made sure to say thank you to Ichigo's dad for the food, determined to stay in his good graces after his little cursing incident.

Walking home like a duck and holding his stomach, Renji tried to go as fast as he could. He had to get back before it was dark at least and try to do his math paper under his blankets. He was smart, he _knew_  that he was smart, but the other boys teased him if he worked too hard. His teacher was happy with his work, at least, although that might just be because by comparison his grades seemed good. Anything is better than not completing work at all, and it seemed like no one else even wanted to try but him. But Renji always tried. He was smart, Rukia had told him so, and Rukia always told him the truth.

He was not dumb. He was not a dummy, no matter how many times they said that. He was smart, and he was gonna' be somebody. He was gonna' be a kid that someone wanted to adopt. Maybe. If not, then he was gonna' grow up to be a smart man who could live in a nice house and be a daddy, so he could still have a family someday anyway. That's why he had to try and get good grades. He wanted people to know that even though everyone said he was bad, he was still a smart boy who could work hard.

He knew he was that person, and Ichigo knew that too, Ichigo believed in him. Ichigo was happy whenever he told him about how good he did in school. Ichigo liked to hear about silly things he'd read from the encyclopedia – which was the only reading material besides magazines and phone books at the orphanage - even though no one else did.

Renji loved Ichigo. Ichigo was so nice to him. He wondered if Ichigo's dad would adopt him so they could all be together all the time. Just thinking about it made Renji's little-boy heart ache inside. He wanted a family. He wanted a brother, he wanted a best friend, and a daddy, and little sisters, and a home. He wanted someone,  _someone_  to love him.

Ichigo smiled at him even though he didn't smile at anyone else, Ichigo played with him and never said mean things. Ichigo liked him, maybe. Renji felt wanted, he felt  _loved_  with Ichigo, and it made him really happy, it had given Renji hope when hope was gone, when everything had hurt after Rukia had been adopted. It gave him a reason to go to school, to try to get along with the older boys, to try to be good. Renji wanted to be good, he wanted to deserve to be Ichigo's friend, he wanted to keep seeing him.

Renji liked Ichigo. He wanted everything with Ichigo; Renji liked him so much. He wanted to be best friends, he wanted to do everything that people who love each other do, like hug and kiss and do that thing that Ronnie always did with him. He liked Ichigo so so much, and he wanted to show him that so that Ichigo knew. Renji couldn't keep this in his little body, he had to tell someone how much Ichigo made him feel better, how good he made him feel.

He wanted Ichigo to feel like this too. Except he'd be good about it. He wouldn't make Ichigo cry like Ronnie had with him. No, he liked Ichigo too much to make him cry. He'd make Ichigo feel loved too, and then Ichigo would want to be his friend for a long long time.

The two of them were so alike that they had to be together, they had to be as close as they could be, and Renji would make sure of that. Ichigo could love him too and they'd be a family. That's how families are. That's why all the boys and him were a family. Family in blood, spit, and skin. He wanted him and Ichigo to be the best of friends, for a really long time, until neither of them hurt so bad inside.

Being good wasn't about being good enough to meet with Rukia again sometime in the future anymore. Being good was about staying good enough to be with Ichigo. He just hoped he could keep this up long enough that he really  _became_ a good boy. He didn't think he could bear it if he lost Ichigo too, after everything else.

* * *

Ikkaku had taken care of little Haruki all weekend, he'd gotten cat supplies and was really eager to see Yumichika that morning when he came into school so he could tell him that he'd found her and that she was okay. He couldn't wait to see his face.

Only, he didn't get a chance to talk to him, because Yumichika came into class almost late and went straight to his seat, not even looking at him. Aw shoot, Yumichika was sad. That's right... Yumichika had been grounded all weekend and didn't even know that Ikkaku had found their kitty.

Ikkaku frowned and flopped onto his desk top, leaning on his hand. He drummed his fingers and spent most of class time trying to get his buddy's attention, even going so far as to throw paper at him. Yumichika ignored him, probably thinking that it was someone else being their typical mean self. When the teacher turned their back, Ikkaku stood up in his chair and wildly waved his arms, but to no avail. He sat down in a frustrated huff and resolved to get Yumichika at recess.

Except he forgot by then. He started playing dodgeball, because he was fresh as heck at that game. He'd almost completely forgotten about his shy sad little friend until he saw someone outside the game get hit in the face with a stray ball and realize,  _oh crap._

Yumichika's head snapped straight back and he fell down on the pavement. He'd only just been walking by to a bench or something, and somebody had cracked him right in the face, maybe on _purpose_. Ikkaku gasped at the hard smack of the rubber against skin, and then more at the hard noise of Yumichika's head cracking against the asphalt.

He just stood there for a second, ball in his hands, staring as Yumichika got up and just walked away, rubbing his aching back, head down. There were a couple shocked laughs and dog-calls from behind him, but Ikkaku just stared, dropping the ball. He stopped playing and followed Yumichika, ignoring the calling of his friends. Those guys all thought he was more fun when he wasn't hanging around Yumichika, but who cared. He liked all of his buddies, but he'd drop them the instant Yumichika needed him. That was the difference between friends and best friends.

Ikkaku was easily distractable, considering that although he'd been rearing to go all weekend, waiting to tell Yumichika the good news, the minute someone tempted him with a game, he was off and thinking about other things. He was kind of a shitty friend in that way, but Yumichika didn't have to do much to drag his attention back. The problem was, Yumichika never did that. He just sat miserably by himself and waited for Ikkaku, someone who would never notice him without being prompted. More often than not, Yumichika would spend the days on the swings, watching Ikkaku play, and Ikkaku would be vaguely aware of it, but focused on his aim and the point-score.

Let Yumichika get hurt or bullied somewhere nearby though, that was a different story. The gates of hell themselves couldn't keep Ikkaku from getting to his buddy. Not that Yumichika would be in hell in the first place, but-

"Hey! Yumichika, wait for me!" he called, but Yumichika didn't wait; he started walking faster, and Ikkaku could see him reach up and wipe his eyes with his wrist.

_Crap._

"Are you okay?" Ikkaku called with that timid meek tone of voice that always took over whenever Yumichika was humiliated or crying or hurt.

"Leave me alone," Yumichika croaked, his voice twisted by tears, and Ikkaku just crumpled, his chest hurting. Yumichika said that to a lot of people, a lot of his bullies, but  _never_  to him. Aw shoot.

He'd ignored Yumichika all day, hadn't he, and he'd probably felt abandoned this weekend, all by his lonesome in his house, grounded, with no one to talk to. Ikkaku felt like a butt.

But he sure as heck wasn't going to leave Yumichika alone. That's all anyone ever did, unless they were making fun of him, and Ikkaku wasn't gonna' keep that up. Yumichika was hurt, and Ikkaku needed to fix it.

"Yumichika, c'mon, lemme' see," Ikkaku said, coming up to him and grabbing his arm. Yumichika downright  _jerked_  himself away and kept walking, but Ikkaku just kept following until they were by the big tree in the field of grass next to the playground. He crouched next to him when Yumichika just sat down and pulled his knees up, arms around his legs.

Yumichika wasn't shaking, but Ikkaku knew he was crying, because over the years of ridicule and trouble at home, Yumichika had become really good at crying silently. That's why he was hiding his face like this. Ikkaku bit his lip, touching Yumichika's side, flinching back when Yumichika hit him and kicked him away, scrunching himself up and telling him to  _get away_ from him _._

Ikkaku did  _not_  get away from him. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry, Yumi." Yumichika didn't move, his face stuffed against his skinny legs, but he gave a long sniffle, nodding a few times.

He put his hand on Yumichika's back and they just sat there for a while until Yumichika stopped being miserable. He kept his head down because he didn't want anyone to see his bruised face, but Ikkaku could tell he wasn't mad anymore. Ikkaku cheered him up a bit, even though he could hear some of his friends calling for him to come back. Yumichika tensed up a little bit, like he thought Ikkaku would leave him, but Ikkaku just ignored them, linking a finger through Yumichika's pinky and telling him about their cat.

Yumichika looked at him disbelievingly then, picking his head up. His eye was really bashed up, and both of them were bloodshot from the still-fading tears. Ikkaku moved a piece of hair off a sticky patch of wet skin, rubbing Yumichika's cheek with his thumb. "Really? It's okay?" Yumichika asked suspiciously.

"Yeah," Ikkaku said with a big grin. "We think it's a girl. I think she's really happy. Kenpachi said she could live at our house. She's still  _your_  cat," he assured, "she'll just sleep over with me, since she can't live with you yet. But she will someday!" Yumichika stared at him for a minute. "You can visit her whenever you come over. It'll be great, we can share her." Yumichika blinked and then started smiling, reaching out and hugging Ikkaku tightly around the neck. Ikkaku melted and smiled, face squeezed against Yumichika's. "Hey, not too tight," he warned, still grinning like a fool, holding Yumichika tighter despite himself.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, Ikkaku," Yumichika said with a smile, less bummed out about his bad weekend and getting hit in the face. "You are the best person," he whined, shaking him around, and Ikkaku just laughed in response.

"I hadta' spend all my money for stuff for her, but it's okay. It was fun."

"Oh no, that was your katana money!" Yumichika wailed, suddenly struck with despair and guilt.

"I didn't even think about that, actually... I guess it doesn't matter," Ikkaku said awkwardly. "I'll get my katana some other time, y'know? There would never be another kitty like ours, so..."

"Why did you keep it, anyways?" Yumichika wondered. "There are a lot of cats out there. You could've just given it to a pound."

"I just, y'know, I just felt bad about what happened, and, I dunno'," Ikkaku said, looking off into the field for a moment, "I just thought you'd be happy about it, so I did it. Plus I like cats. She plays really good. Cats sure love to scratch!" He showed Yumichika his clawed-up arm with a happy grin. "She's so fun and cute. I made her a feather toy and she  _loves_  it. She keeps chasing it under my bed and back into the hallway and through Kenpachi's feet."

"Kenpachi?" Yumichika asked with trepidation, his face falling. "What does  _he_  think about her?"

"He likes her!" Ikkaku said, "He says she's annoying, but he says that about Yachiru too, so-" Ikkaku shrugged then, "Anyways, he let Haruki climb his clothes, and I saw him petting her last night, so he must like her. He likes her, I can tell. Just like he likes  _you._ "

"I still don't think he does."

"He's just like that," Ikkaku assured. "He always tells me to invite you over."

"Really?"

"Yeah, he's mad you're grounded too. He said you should come see the cat and play with it and help me make it some toys so it won't wreck the walls."

"Oh. I can do that."

Then they got to talking about fun things to do with her and what they could make for her next time they hung out. They couldn't play after school anymore, since Yumichika was grounded, which put a damper on their plans, but at least they could still talk at school. Yumichika was an artistic crafty kid too, so he could still make things and mail them or something, or save them until they could meet again.

"You can still sleep over at my house next week, though, right?" Ikkaku asked uncertainly. They'd had that planned over a month ago, and he didn't want that to be ruined.

"Right," Yumichika said, to Ikkaku's relief. "I did good on that test that got handed back, so Father will let me, probably," he mused, fingers on his mouth. Ikkaku listened attentively. "I heard Momma talking to him last night about it, but I think he was gonna' let me anyways."

"Awesome," Ikkaku said with a face-splitting grin. "We are gonna' prank call so many people!" He rocked around, laughing with excitement. Yumichika smiled at his enthusiasm, then winced and touched his tender face.

"Hey, are you okay?" Ikkaku asked in concern, expression sad. He reached out and touched Yumichika's face where he got hit, brushing his finger on it. Yumichika flinched, hissing. Then he cautiously touched his head and pressed gingerly on the place he'd whacked, feeling a bump. "Holy cheese, that's really swelling up," Ikkaku mumbled, rubbing it gently.

He suddenly glared back over at his friends where they were playing their game ,and rolled up his sleeves, fists clenching as he made to stand up and go over there. He was gonna'  _beat_   _tha' living-_

"Don't bother."

" _You're_  not a bother!" Ikkaku snapped, cracking his knuckles.

"Ikkaku, don't make trouble for yourself," Yumichika begged. Yumichika was always acting like that, either trying to avoid trouble by lying or sneaking, or just passively accepting his situation, but Ikkaku had never been like that and he wasn't going to sit down for  _his friends_  having a hand in hurting Yumichika and embarrassing him in front of everyone playing on the parking lot.

"I'll go to any trouble for you!" he shouted, eyes searching the group for who it had been, who had done it.

Yumichika grabbed his wrist and pulled him back down, distracting him from his manhunt. "I'm okay," he said softly, smiling a little. "Don't worry, I'm okay." Ikkaku nodded, still scowling, then putting an arm around Yumichika's shoulders, continuing with glaring in their direction.

"Okay," Ikkaku said darkly, and then brightened up a little when Yumichika started asking more questions about Haruki.

The thought of that Shuuhei Hisagi guy that Yumichika liked didn't leave his mind. Ikkaku had no doubt that Yumichika had held him off from beating the stuffing out of him was because Yumichika didn't want Shuuhei to hate  _him_  by extension. The thing was, Shuuhei had been the one to hit Yumichika with the ball, and he was sure that he was gonna' come around to apologize later and suck up to Yumichika's good graces.

Just thinking about it made Ikkaku mad.


	5. Chapter 5

The next day when Ichigo's school was done, Renji wasn't there waiting for him. Confused and slightly troubled by this, Ichigo waited for almost twenty minutes, before beginning to walk home alone. Since he'd taken so long today, his bullies had given up on waiting for him, and Ichigo was free to go home undisturbed. Usually, he and Renji would walk together to keep the mean kids away, but not today, it seemed.

When he got home, he finally saw Renji waiting by the gate. "There you are!"

As they went into the backyard, Ichigo realized that something was wrong. Renji was walking funny and complained that his tummy hurt. Ichigo was a little disappointed that his buddy didn't feel like playing, but was still glad that he'd at least come over.

Ichigo avidly told him that he'd gotten to spray the classroom's pet frog with water that day to keep it moist, and that it had blinked at him. Renji smiled a little and told him about some frogs he'd held that the other guys had rounded up to shoot bebe pellets at. Ichigo frowned, but then went on to say that his dad had bought some nice ice cream for them to have later and that Renji's stomach had better hurry up and feel better. Renji said the only time he got to have ice cream was when he stole it. Ichigo began to get discouraged, but then Renji asked what they could do today and he brightened up again.

He'd gotten his dad to get him some dot-to-dot books and some more coloring supplies, so they did that for a while on the patio tiles, drawing dragons, and rocket ships, and people doing cool things, like climbing the tallest building in the world, or jumping on the biggest trampoline in the world, or eating the biggest dango in the world. The best things in the world were a popular theme with them.

"I have a weird belly ache," Renji whined again, holding himself in the front and the back at the same time. Ichigo frowned in woe. Renji didn't really feel like doing anything but sitting there and resting. He didn't even want to bend over to color anymore. Ichigo moped, scratching the grass next to Renji's arm where it was flopped onto the ground. Renji made a few sickie noises. "I think I'm just hungry," he said with a sigh, and Ichigo perked up and brought him a piece of bread.

Renji ate it and cheered up a little bit, getting up to chase Ichigo around, but pretty slowly. He was walking really funny. He looked stiff and achey and kept holding his belly and touching his privates, saying that they hurt. Ichigo was really starting to get worried, because Renji's color wasn't looking so good and he was breathing weird.

"Renji, are you sick? My dad's a doctor," Ichigo informed, as if he didn't already know that. "You can go talk to him and he'll do doctor things to you until you're better," he chirped, blinking innocently, patting Renji's shoulder a little. Renji shook his head violently, lip sticking out.

"I hate going to the doctor's. I'm never going back there," Renji croaked. "I'm not sick."

"I think you're sick, Renji. It's okay if you are," Ichigo said in concern, brow scrunching. "When you're sick, you get taken cared of." Ichigo frowned at himself, mumbling, 'care of, cared of, care of.' Then he shook his head. "It's nice, and it'll make you feel lots better. It's alright to be sick." Renji was shaking his head and denying it, almost like he was afraid of getting in trouble.

"I'm okay," Renji said hoarsely, letting out an 'urp'. He hiccuped, immediately turned grey, and suddenly his whole body heaved. Ichigo scrambled back, but Renji clapped his hands over his mouth and promptly swallowed down his own vomit. "I'm okay, see," he said with a shaky smile.

"Renji, you're sick! Is it cause' you ate all those hot-dogs last night?!"

"No," Renji rasped, his throat still a little sore too. "It's the bottom of my tummy that hurts, not the top." He pointed low on his abdomen, a part of his stomach that was covered by his pants. "And I'm not sick. I'll be fine tomorrow, probably."

Ichigo frowned and sat down in the grass with him, rubbing his back a little and feeling his clammy forehead. "Let's play with that plane," Renji whispered, eyes slipping closed at Ichigo's cool touch.

"We can't, it's still stuck in the tree," Ichigo reminded, frowning.

"Let's get it, then," Renji said. Ichigo shook his head no. "Please, get it," Renji begged. "I don't wanna' ruin our time. Please go get it and let's play." Renji looked so off-color and pitiful that Ichigo agreed. He laid down in the grass and closed his eyes while Ichigo began to grapple at the tree trunk and tried to climb it.

He could get halfway up, but slid down each time, raking his palms and legs with the bark. Frustrated, he hopped wildly and grabbed the low branch, pulling himself up and climbing high, shoving through the branches to grab their plane where it was stuck. He couldn't quite reach it, so he stood on his tiptoes and swiped at it, knocking it out of the tree and onto the ground. Suddenly, his foot missed a branch and he fell, whacking his face hard. Still, he managed to grab hold of a limb, trying to right himself, but all he succeeded in doing was tiring out his arms.

He was an inch from falling and really hurting himself, and he began panicking, kicking his legs and calling for help. Isshin saw from the kitchen, having heard Ichigo yelling. He watched as Renji sat up in alarm and then sprinted over there. The red-head stood under the place where Ichigo was hanging and held his arms up to try to grab him when he dropped. He was just in time for Ichigo to fall on him _,_ softening the landing for Ichigo but taking all of the weight himself. Isshin winced, opening up the patio door. That had been solid.

Ichigo just rubbed a bashed area of his face, but Renji was sprawled out beneath him in the grass, having had the wind knocked out of him. "Ow," he hissed as Ichigo rolled off of him, and he just lay there for a minute before stiffly prying himself up.

"You boys okay? Renji-kun, you alright?"

"I'm okay," Ichigo said sheepishly, looking to Renji, who was rubbing his ribs and his spine. He nodded to Isshin with a little smile, who cautiously went back inside, keeping an eye out through the window.

Renji had hurt his back, so they just sat around in the grass for the rest of their time. Ichigo would let them take turns throwing the plane and would fetch it for both of them, letting Renji just rest.

"Hey, sorry for falling on you," Ichigo said guiltily, rubbing his buddy's back a little. Renji smiled some, battered and sort of grey in the face, but content. Isshin watched from the window, having been ready to bring them a snack and to check on how they were doing. That red-head really didn't look so good. Why had he been let out to play if he was this ill? Hadn't his parents noticed how off his color was?

"Heh', it's okay. I got scared for a minute, you dork," Renji said, scratching his neck. "I saw your dumb skinny legs kicking and I thought you were gonna' fall and break your bones. It really hurt, but I'm glad you're okay." He smiled at Ichigo with… _something_ on his face that wasn't quite right. Something too deep for a nine-year-old.

Renji obviously adored his son. He would take care of him at his own expense; he'd watch out for him. Isshin made the connection that the reason Ichigo had been bashed up the day he'd first brought Renji home was because Renji had helped him. He knew that people picked on Ichigo, but Renji must've come to his aid.

Further, he noticed that Ichigo had stopped coming home looking quite as roughed up, since he was now accompanied by his buddy. Renji… Renji was fighting at his side and trying to protect him. This boy really cared for his son and was gonna' watch out for him, even at his own expense, even if he was sick and feeling bad.

Isshin decided then that Renji could be trusted and that the next time he came over, he would allow the boys to play in the house.

* * *

Ikkaku couldn't believe this.

After he'd finished his little bit of homework, he'd told Kenpachi he was going out for a bit and had run the few miles to Yumichika's house, intending on throwing pebbles at his room and talking to him from the neighboring yard if he'd just open his window.

Only, Yumichika was in his dining room. Ikkaku could see through the sliding-glass door, having snuck into the neighbor's backyard. Yumichika and Shuuhei were sitting at the table together, talking and reading. Yumichika was supposed to be grounded, but that handsome jerk got to come over, probably just because he lived next door.

Needless to say, Ikkaku was _ticked._

He sat on the sidewalk in front of the house for like an hour, glaring at Yumichika's bedroom window. He'd come to visit Yumichika, but now he was probably playing with Hisagi in his bedroom, even though he wasn't supposed to have anyone over. A model student like Hisagi apparently didn't apply in Yumichika's father's eyes.

He could see Hisagi and Yumichika jumping on the bed up there, and Ikkaku turned around like lightning and stormed all the way home. He stomped up each step when he went back to the apartment and he slammed the front door as hard as he could, satisfied with the loud _wham_. He was so mad.

"Hey! Don't be slamming no fuckin' doors around here!" he could hear Kenpachi shout from across the house, but Ikkaku didn't care. He was furious.

He should've just said sorry, because Kenpachi didn't mess around when he swore that harshly, but Ikkaku was angry and he didn't feel like apologizing. Yumichika should be the one apologizing to _him!_

Ikkaku stomped past the couch towards the window, slamming it shut, punching the frame with a shriek of frustration. He kicked the wall and scared the baby, and by then, Kenpachi was pissed. He came out of the bathroom in his sweatpants and glared down at his kid. Ikkaku just fumed and clenched his fists, itching for a fight, toes curling into the floorboards.

"Whatsa' matter with you, huh?" Kenpachi asked in concern, still miffed about Ikkaku's tantrum, but realizing how out of character it was for him to act up like this. What was wrong with his kid? He reached out for him, but Ikkaku hit his hand away.

He could understand Ikkaku being upset about something, but he wasn't gonna' take no brattiness. Kenpachi reached out again, and Ikkaku slapped him off, continuing to snub him. Kenpachi's eyes narrowed, this time in anger, and he swiped for Ikkaku, easily nabbing him around the waist and scooping him into the air, carrying him down the hall. Ikkaku screamed at the top of his lungs and kicked his legs, hitting Kenpachi anywhere he could reach. Yachiru was crying, and Ikkaku was screaming, and Kenpachi was getting loud too.

He threw Ikkaku in his room and closed the door, telling him not to come out until he did something about that goddamn attitude, and that if he sassed him again, he'd really get his ass beat. That wasn't true, but Ikkaku decided not to push it. He was too upset to talk about it like Kenpachi would make him do if he came out back out of his room, so it was better to just sulk on his own for a while. He listened as Kenpachi's heavy footfalls headed away from his door towards the screaming baby, who soon calmed down. Ikkaku swallowed hard where he'd landed on the floor, wrapping his arms around his knees and trying to get his eyes to stop burning.

Yumichika had a new friend.

He shouldn't be upset. He knew he shouldn't, since he had a bunch of friends other than Yumichika. He was always going to birthday parties and nightly-stays that Yumichika hadn't been invited to, but… Ikkaku didn't invite any of them over to _his_ house. Only Yumichika could come over, and to know that it wasn't the same the other way around, it just hurt. It hurt to think that Yumichika didn't want him above everybody else too. Hisagi Shuuhei was better in every way, and before he knew it, Yumichika's dad would be letting Shuuhei come over all the time, and Yumichika would want that, just because it would be easier than trying to get him to say yes about Ikkaku.

Had Yumichika _lied_ to him? No, that couldn't be right. Ikkaku had been there when Yumichika had gotten grounded, so it wasn't like Yumichika had lied. Maybe though… Maybe he'd been ungrounded and Yumichika had purposefully not said anything to him. Maybe he had been planning on keeping that secret so Shuuhei could come over without Ikkaku knowing. Yumichika must like him better now and just didn't want Ikkaku to be mad. Yumichika was playing with another boy.

He hadn't though that Yumichika was still upset with him after what had happened on Monday, but Yumichika was good at hiding things. Was he punishing Ikkaku? Did he hate him now and want nothing to do with him? Why was he doing this to him? Why didn't Yumichika like him anymore?

Ikkaku blinked rapidly and swallowed, petting Haruki when she came to sniff and paw at his leg. He picked her up and hugged her as tight as he dared, sniffling a little. If Yumichika didn't want to be his friend anymore, then he would still take care of Haruki.

He got in bed and hugged his pillow, his anger burning out. He could hear Haruki playing around on the floor, but he didn't turn to watch. After about half an hour of just lying there cooling down, glumly fiddling with the tag sticking off of the pillow, the door opened. "Come eat." Kenpachi was using his quiet-voice, which was like a normal-voice on someone else.

Ikkaku rolled over and came to the table, biting into his chicken-burger viciously. He didn't feel like eating or even swallowing – he just wanted to bite and rip and chew. He was mad again. "Hey, carnivore, slow down." Ikkaku growled and took another big bite. Kenpachi should stop staring at him before he flipped the table. Ikkaku was ticked off. What had he done to deserve Yumichika doing that to him, eh? What did he do?

So, Yumichika wanted to play with Hisagi instead of him, huh? It was probably cause' he was more handsome than Ikkaku was. Probably cause' he had olive skin and nice hair and dark eyes. Ikkaku hadn't ever had reason not to like himself before, but now he wished he could change himself so that Yumichika liked him better again. He wished he could change, but he couldn't. He didn't grow hair on his head and his eyes were plain brown. He wasn't very funny or interesting, and his nose bled frequently for no reason. He still wet the bed once in a blue moon. His legs were skinny. He had a temper. He played rough. There were a lot of unlikeable things about him. Ikkaku scowled, feeling bad about himself.

He'd never been worried about this before, because it was clear that Yumichika liked him. He hadn't even had to think about it before really, but he felt ugly now. He'd thought that Yumichika liked him cause' he was fun, but maybe that wasn't good enough. It hit him all at once like a cannonball to the gut, that Shuuhei was better than him and that he had no chance. Shuuhei had a nicer face; he was smart and sweet and _pretty._ Shuuhei had been _born_ the winner. There was nothing Ikkaku could do.

Ikkaku stabbed the table with his fork, letting out a cry of anger. Kenpachi didn't immediately snap at him that time, staring calmly at the fork sticking out of the tabletop and then watching to see if that was the end of his little meltdown. "Ya' good now?" Far from it. Ikkaku got out of his chair and hit the wall, screaming. Kenpachi grabbed him by his skinny upper-arm before he could punch through the drywall, and although Ikkaku tried to jerk away, Kenpachi didn't let him, holding on easily.

"What's your damage, kid?" Kenpachi asked, not getting where any of this was coming from. Ikkaku was usually a pretty happy-go-lucky guy. He didn't cause trouble much at home, maybe at school sometimes, but not often. He was responsible for his age, he listened, he was a help around the house, and he thought Kenpachi was cool on top of it. Kenpachi had been pleased with how much Ikkaku had improved over the years and how easy parenting had turned out to be for him. Ikkaku was a rational little boy, and usually Kenpachi could just talk to him without it having to escalate to threats of violence. Ikkaku understood consequences just fine, but get him mad and he just didn't _care_ about those consequences.

Kenpachi used to have had to put Ikkaku by himself - maybe close him in a room alone - until he calmed himself down, when Ikkaku had been younger and more out of control. Although there was always that chance to rationalize with Ikkaku, that chance came _beforehand._ It was the typical scenario of letting steam out of the pot before the lid blows on its own.

Ikkaku yanked against his grip, hitting him in the side and actually _growling_ at him. Kenpachi grimaced. Fuck, he wished his kid wasn't so damned emotional sometimes.

Ikkaku was prone to lash-outs, but they had been decreasing over the years, since he'd gotten better at the whole 'analytical-thinking' and 'self-control' bit. Still, if that small window of time was missed, the time when Ikkaku could actually be talked down from a blow-up, then there was no stopping it, no consequence that Ikkaku cared about, and all that could be done was wait for the little shit to burn himself out. That's why when he got into fights at school, it wasn't a 'minor issue'; it was an all-out brawl with blood and junk, and parents had to be called. The little hothead sure had a temper, that was for sure. The thing was, he hadn't acted like this at _home_ in _years._ Not since he'd first started living with Kenpachi. Kenpachi didn't get why this was happening or what was wrong with his kid, but he wanted to know.

"Why're ya' acting like this, boy?" Kenpachi grunted passively, just watching with a mild expression as Ikkaku struggled to escape him, which just made the little guy angrier. "You can tug and scream all ya' want, but yer' not goin' nowhere until ya' spill it. _What. Happened."_

It was almost comical, but Kenpachi didn't even crack a grin, merely watching as his kid embarrassed himself and scream-whined. Ikkaku tried to yank out of his grip again, but it didn't work, even when he bit Kenpachi's wrist hard enough to break the skin. When that failed, he dropped his weight, squirming around and hanging by his arm, trying to get Kenpachi to let go, but he still held on with no effort. His kid was downright scrawny compared to him. By then, Ikkaku was so mad that Kenpachi was surprised he hadn't passed out from how much blood was in his face. He went to kick Kenpachi in the leg, but Kenpachi shook him once, _hard,_ having had enough, and Ikkaku cracked.

His face screwed up, head thrown back, and he wailed, "Yumichika's playing with another boy!" He shoved his head against Kenpachi's middle so that his face was completely buried, and then screamed and cried into his tummy. Kenpachi raised an eyebrow at the leech around his waist, feeling a wet spot, and Ikkaku slumped, shoulders drooping. "It's not fair! Doesn't he still like me?!" came some muffled yelling. Kenpachi's expression softened a little bit.

It figures that it'd had something to do with Yumichika. Kenpachi was a total softy for that kid, and Ikkaku was no better. Kenpachi was about to say something that might be construed as comforting, but then Ikkaku started thrashing around again, stomping his feet. Yeah, Kenpachi was willing to make him feel better, but if he kept this shit up, he was gonna' put him in a trashcan until he cut it out.

"Hey, hey, just sit yer' scrawny ass down," Kenpachi growled, practically tossing Ikkaku's arm towards the table to make him go back there. Ikkaku sniffed hard and wiped his cheek angrily, lip sticking out. Kenpachi was a sucker for a crying child, so he put his hand on top of Ikkaku's head, patting a little, grinding the heel of his palm against his forehead. Ikkaku whimpered, furrowing his brow and rubbing his knuckles into his wet eyes, letting Kenpachi's hand stay there this time.

"There's a reason _why_ he's not playin' with ya'. _"_

" _Why?"_ Ikkaku snapped bitterly, wiping his nose, face red with anger and embarrassment. Both of them knew that Ikkaku was too old to be cryin' like this, but neither of them mentioned it. Kenpachi sat down across from him, rolling his eyes.

Kenpachi hadn't said that because he knew the reason why. He'd just been bringing it to Ikkaku's attention, because there _was_ a reason. "I _dunno'_ why. Only you know and he knows. If you don't know, then think about it. Did somethin' happen?" Kenpachi asked in disinterest, mostly just wanting Ikkaku to stop wrecking the furniture and freaking Yachiru out. She'd actually fallen asleep in her high chair during this somehow, too used to their yelling to be bothered.

Ikkaku stared at nothing for a minute, then looked sheepish, mumbling almost incoherently from shame. "Me and my friends were playing dodgeball when I shoulda' been playing with him… " Kenpachi made a gesture like, 'well, there you go.' Ikkaku jolted up in his chair, voice whiny and defensive. God, Kenpachi _hated_ that whiny tone of his, and his glaring quickly changed it back into a normal voice. "No, but, I went to play with him right after! Maybe it's because one of them hit him in the face with a ball that he's mad." Kenpachi just stared at his kid, slowly shaking his head in utter disbelief that he was raising such an idiot.

Kenpachi said something he shouldn't have out loud, but Ikkaku needed to hear it. "I dunno' why he hangs out with you anyways when you're so outta' control. No wonder he's playing with this other kid."

"This kid's the one who hit him in the face!" Ikkaku said, as if he had a valid point of contention. And he did.

"Oh," Kenpachi said, furrowing his brow, putting his fist to his mouth and looking to the side in thought. "Well that don't make no sense."

"See?!" Ikkaku howled, pounding his fist on the table, grabbing the edges and shaking it around, knocking their sandwiches apart.

"Hey, _knock it off,_ Squirt," Kenpachi snapped, cuffing Ikkaku over the head before he broke their rickety dining table, which was admittedly just a card table with a wooden top. Ikkaku's head went down and he just stayed like that, glum and mopey. Kenpachi thought for a minute, grimacing, truly not liking to see his kid lose his pep. Ikkaku was always so fulla' beans; it took a lot to bring him down.

"Who is this little loser, anyway?" Kenpachi grunted mildly. Ikkaku mumbled something. "Eh?"

"Hisagi Shuuhei," Ikkaku spat at the table-top. Kenpachi just sat there for a moment before the name clicked.

"Wait, is that Muguruma's kid?" Ikkaku looked up to Kenpachi, remembering that sometimes they boxed together. "Yumichika's playing with that _crybaby_ insteada' you? Pssh. Ya' musta' really screwed up, Gaki."

Ikkaku flopped onto the table, putting his head right on his plate, not caring that he was mashing his sandwich bun.

"I mean, I guess he's cuter'n you, but still, what a weenie," Kenpachi said with a gruff laugh. "Can't even stand the sighta' blood." Ikkaku was quiet, just lying there miserably on his food. Kenpachi sighed, smile fading.

To be honest, it made sense. Yumichika was sort of a quiet, introverted, sickly kid. He had strict parents, and genuinely enjoyed being clean and polite. Of _course_ he'd like someone who could enjoy playing indoors and reading, like Hisagi, rather than Kenpachi's rambunctious wild-ass boy. Ikkaku probably realized that too, which was why he felt so helpless, and Kenpachi could _tell_ he felt helpless, because when he did, he lashed out and broke shit. Even so, there wasn't much either of them could do but hope Yumichika came around.

Kenpachi was starting to think that maybe Ikkaku was about to learn a tough lesson in a really tough way: you can't make someone love you.

It was just a crying shame though, because being passed over for another boy was the _last_ thing Ikkaku needed right now. He'd been in a good place emotionally, and Kenpachi had been glad for it. Rejection, though, Ikkaku's big soft heart couldn't handle rejection. Even now, Kenpachi had to be careful how he worded things, or else he'd risk wounding the poor kid's spirit. To be honest, that had been why Ikkaku had been such a spitfire when Kenpachi had first met him. He'd been so afraid of being rejected that he'd made himself into a child who would be rejected no matter what. He'd hated adults, he'd hated people because so many of them had given him back, given up on him, thought he wasn't good enough, and Ikkaku had taken that to heart, he'd believed it was something wrong with _him_ that made people do that. He wasn't going to let anyone else into his heart, because he'd been hurt too many times, even at his young age, so when Kenpachi had gotten him, it had been a total clusterfuck.

Ikkaku had torn the house apart repeatedly, he'd said 'fuck you' and 'I hate you' nonstop to Kenpachi, he'd kicked and hit him and purposefully broken dishware to get a rise out of him. He'd drawn vulgar things on the walls and thrown Kenpachi's phone out the three-story window. He'd spat in his food, he'd destroyed the bathroom, he'd deliberately hurt himself. He'd been really fucking difficult, and on _purpose,_ too.

Somewhere inside, the young boy had thought Kenpachi was going to give him back too, just like every other foster parent he'd ever had. Ikkaku hadn't been able to handle one more rejection, so he'd lashed out and acted like Satan's child just to prove to himself that Kenpachi was like the others, that no one could love him. He'd done this with multiple candidates who'd been looking to actually _adopt_ him, and they'd all given him back because they couldn't control him or handle him, and Ikkaku was ready to make Kenpachi do the same. Lucky for that little shit, proving people wrong was Kenpachi's go-to, and he hadn't been about to let a fucking six-year old get the better of him.

Once Ikkaku had realized that Kenpachi wasn't going to give him up no matter what he did, he'd calmed down and stopped misbehaving. After a brief three-week period of eerie calm, suspicion, and mistrust, he'd latched right on fiercely and had been the sweetest, most helpful little boy Kenpachi had ever met. He'd still been difficult and annoying, too hyper, and clingy as fuck with a bucket-load of separation anxiety for a long time, but he'd slowly improved and Kenpachi had been proud about it. Ikkaku was insecure for a little while and had been nervous when they'd gotten Yachiru, maybe feeling like he was being replaced, but things had worked out just fine. Ikkaku had been happy as a clam for a few years now, with only a couple minor issues and fights at school.

Knowing this, Kenpachi inwardly cringed just thinking about Ikkaku being seriously rejected by one of his peers, especially Yumichika. Ikkaku _adored_ that kid. That was the absolute worst thing for him right now, to be turned away by Yumichika in favor of another boy. Rejected and replaced all in one night. Ikkaku's little-boy heart would break and Kenpachi didn't want to deal with that shit if it meant more nights of Ikkaku acting like this.

Dealing with a screaming out-of-control six-year-old was one thing, but an eleven-year-old could cause considerably more damage.

He just hoped Ikkaku didn't get too pissed off, because if Ikkaku fucked this up, Kenpachi couldn't fix it for him. He couldn't bring Yumichika back or make him like him again. Ikkaku was a rational boy, but if his temper got the better of him, he might end up doing something irreversible. If he _hit_ Yumichika or something, god, Kenpachi could already imagine the conversation with Yumichika's father. Don't even get Kenpachi started on _that_ guy.

If Yumichika had been grounded, it made sense that it was Ikkaku who wasn't allowed to come over, since Ikkaku was the _best_ friend, while Hisagi was just the model-student who lived next door – a second-tier friend. Hisagi was a good influence, while Ikkaku was something that could be held over Yumichika's head and taken away as a punishment. Kenpachi knew Yumichika though, and Yumichika would never do nothin' hurtful to his kid. Yumichika was a real good boy, and Kenpachi liked him a lot. He was clean and polite and really cooled Ikkaku's jets like you wouldn't believe. It'd be a real shame if he got chased off, and a pain in Kenpachi's ass in the long run.

On the surface, of course the tantrums and violence ticked Kenpachi off because of the noise level and because he didn't want his kid breaking shit, but beneath it, he knew that Ikkaku's anger was a shitty attempt at a coping mechanism, a thin veil for absolute misery, and Kenpachi truly didn't want his kid to feel that awful. He knew Ikkaku would be pretty heartbroke over this if there was a falling out, and that was worse by far than a few pieces of broken furniture.

Plus, like he always said, if Ikkaku was gonna' hit like a man, then he had to face his problems like a man, and that meant thinkin' and talkin' things through like one.

"Ikkaku," Kenpachi said, getting Ikkaku to tilt his chin up, because Kenpachi rarely said his actual name if he wasn't about to lay down the hard facts of life. "There's always an explanation. So figure out what it is. Just ask Yumichika tomorrow about what's goin' on, and _don't_ lose your temper like that again," he said seriously, pointing at him. Ikkaku sat there for a minute, eyes going to the side, before he nodded.

"You know better thanta' do that, and you'd better remember that tomorrow or you're gonna' find yourself sayin' goodbye ta' him for good. Yumichika's a good kid and he wouldn't do that just ta' hurt ya'," Kenpachi said, looking at him sternly. "Have a little faith in yer' friends. So he's pallin' around with someone else, big deal. Don't let it get to ya'."

"Okay," Ikkaku said, still a little sad, but he conceded to put his burger back together and eat it. He felt better. Kenpachi grunted in satisfaction when his kid stopped trying to kick the table apart. He took a swig of his beer; fucking parenting.

...

Ikkaku didn't go to talk to Yumichika the next day during school. One could say he actually avoided him, because instead of going out to recess, he just sat in a bathroom stall and ate his lunch there, trying to think of what to say. He didn't wanna' end up getting mad or upset and driving Yumichika away further. He'd taken Kenpachi's words of advice to heart like you wouldn't believe.

He was scared of getting too angry and hitting Yumichika in the teeth, but at the same time he was scared that if he didn't say anything about this, Yumichika might keep seeing Hisagi more and more until he was replaced completely.

He was just so _worried_. He could be without every other one of his friends, but Yumichika was different.

After recess he could feel Yumichika looking at him during class, he could _feel_ it, but he didn't look up. By the time school was over and it was time to walk home, he could see Yumichika and Hisagi heading in the same direction, which made sense, since they lived next door to each other, but it still ticked Ikkaku off. Hisagi was in the grade beneath them, so they must've purposefully sought each other out with the intention of walking home together.

Ikkaku had to cut in.

"Yumichika, wait! Let's talk!" Ikkaku called, not walking after them, pleased when Yumichika waved to Hisagi and came back to Ikkaku instead of continuing home together with him.

Yumichika didn't smile when he came up to him, but seemed pleased to see him. Ikkaku glared stonily at him, cutting right to the chase. "I thought you were grounded. Why was he at your house yesterday?"

"How do you even know that?" Yumichika asked in confusion, brow crinkling.

"I thought you were supposed to be _grounded_ ," Ikkaku said aggressively, baring his teeth, all the anger of his perceived betrayal coming back. Yumichika pursed his lips.

"I _am_ grounded," he said in confusion, not matching his fervor. "Ikkaku, why do you even know about him being there, anyway?"

Ikkaku ground his teeth so hard his gums hurt, fists clenching. He just wanted Yumichika to say it already, to say that it was because Hisagi was better in every way and that he didn't need him now. "Because I went to visit you. I thought you'd be lonely, so I went to see you, but you were there with - _him - already!"_ he snapped, stomping his feet on the last two words, eyes wide and challenging as he waited for an explanation.

Yumichika's brow creased for a minute and then he shook his head. "We were just doing homework, Ikkaku. Plus Mr. Kensei dropped him off. My momma was just watching Shuuhei as a favor, so we did homework and played."

That- That explanation made... made _sense._ Darn. Ikkaku's anger deflated into frustration as he realized that he couldn't be as mad or offended as he wanted to be. Jealousy just sucked, because if it gets out of hand, it just makes you look _crazy_.

Ikkaku just flopped onto a bench with a huff, crossing his arms and scowling at everything. Yumichika perched next to him with a little sigh. "You know," he began thoughtfully, "My dad thinks I should become better friends with him. He has good grades, and he's really nice."

"Maybe you _should_ then!" Ikkaku spat.

"You're right," Yumichika said lightly, and Ikkaku panicked. That had had the opposite reaction than what he'd desired.

His ire made a lightning-quick shift to desperation, forcing him to think of something, _anything_ that might make Yumichika stop liking Hisagi. "He's _younger_ than us!" he sputtered, eyebrows hurting from suddenly scrunching the opposite way that they had just been. "Why would you play with him anyway?! He's not even in our grade!" Yumichika looked over to him with a raised eyebrow.

"He lives next door. It's convenient." Ikkaku took a breath to retort, but had nothing prepared. He let the air out and pouted, his devastation showing plainly on his face. Yumichika was quiet for a long time.

Why did Yumichika have to be so dang rational and calm about this? Had Ikkaku done something seriously wrong? Was Yumichika mad at him and trying to make him sorry for what he did? Why was he doing this to Ikkaku, he'd tried so hard! He'd been a good friend, right? Ikkaku's brow furrowed in guilt and worry.

Good... Good people want the best for their buddies, no matter what. Even if it means that they're written out of their lives because of that. Ikkaku really really cared about Yumichika and he saw how glum and lonely Yumichika could get, and if this Shuuhei kid could really make him smile at times when even Ikkaku couldn't, then... maybe... maybe it was for the best that... that they...

Yeah, okay. Ikkaku could accept this. There was just one last problem, one more thing he had to know for sure, or he'd never rest. He'd claw his own skin off, he'd never sleep, he'd go crazy. He had to know.

Ikkaku suddenly reached out to touch Yumichika, grabbing one of his shoulders and then the other, turning him towards him. Swallowing, forcing out some hard words, Ikkaku sucked it up in favor of saying it out loud. He had to know. He had to. There was no other way.

"As long as _we're_ still best friends…" he said pitifully, almost in a questioning tone. Yumichika nodded.

"Yes," Yumichika said right away, his smile so reassuring and truthful. Ikkaku sagged in relief, still a little bitter about the whole situation. He smiled weakly, but then his brow furrowed and he grew serious again.

"I wish he wasn't so handsome, though." Yumichika smiled a little bit, not in amusement, but in something that looked like agreement about his observation. Ikkaku's expression soured and he glared at Yumichika, causing the smile to leave his face.

"No kissing him," Ikkaku said harshly, lower lip sticking out. "You only can kiss me!"

Yumichika's eyebrows shot up, and Ikkaku's palms began to sweat. He took them off Yumichika's shoulders and let them fidget around in his lap. His cheeks were red now, he could feel it. "I mean- I- Only- If you want," he stuttered, looking the other way.

Yumichika began laughing, flopping his head against Ikkaku's shoulder, and Ikkaku sighed, deflating with a breath of exasperation. He smiled wearily, glad that things weren't in as bad of shape as he'd thought. He put his arm around Yumichika's back and rubbed for a minute.

"We can still have our sleepover, right?" he asked cautiously.

"Right," Yumichika confirmed. When Ikkaku was uncomfortably silent, he looked up to his face and reassured, "Just us."

"Just us," Ikkaku said with a sigh of relief. "Good. Yeah." As the blush began to fade from his cheeks and that sick insecure feeling left his heart, he began to brighten up and go back to his old self. He started feeling excited. He loved having sleepovers with Yumichika. They snuggled and talked all night and had so much fun. They weren't allowed to sleep in his room alone ever since he'd let it slip to Kenpachi that he _like-_ liked Yumichika, but they got to sleep together on the living room floor in front of the TV, and that was just as good.

"I've got a whole plan set up about what we're gonna' do," Ikkaku said happily.

Yumichika smiled. "Really?"

"Yeah," Ikkaku said with a big grin, standing up and grabbing Yumichika's wrist, starting to tug him so that he could walk him home. "I left a box by the train tracks last year, and it's got my best Pokémon cards in it! We can go get that! It'll be like a time-capsule! We could make one together and go get it again next year! We can put our buddy-rocks in it!"

Yumichika listened on in interest, looking to his face repeatedly and back down to the ground for obstacles as Ikkaku towed him along eagerly. "Plus Kenpachi said I can go to the video store with you too, and we can get snacks and junk and a scary movie!" Yumichika bit his lip, which Ikkaku noticed, and he shrugged easily, "or a funny movie."

"That's good," Yumichika said, "Wow."

"And also, we can sit on the roof of the balcony and look at the moon."

Yumichika's brow furrowed. "Won't we get in trouble?" That was Yumichika's concern a lot of the time, because he didn't want to get Kenpachi mad, but 'getting in trouble' wasn't as much of an issue at Ikkaku's house. Yumichika was still getting used to things like being allowed to eat junk food, and watching what they wanted, or staying up late, or being unsupervised outside the house.

"Yeah," Ikkaku said simply, but grinned widely, splitting his cheeks. "Let's still do it though," he said merrily. Yumichika just laughed a little, and Ikkaku smiled even wider. Not many people could make Yumichika smile, and it made Ikkaku nervous that Hisagi Shuuhei could, but no way could anyone make Yumichika laugh but him, not even Shuuhei.


	6. Chapter 6

**TRIGGER WARNING -** If you don't want the story spoiled, ignore this, but if you have a serious trigger you're concerned about, read the footnote (*) of this chapter for the specific trigger.

* * *

The next time Renji came over, Isshin let him come inside to play, and Ichigo and Renji horsed around in the living room for hours, having an absolute blast. Isshin felt sure that he'd made the right decision, grinned at the sight of the kids playing happily, and then drifted out of the room to do some bills.

Ichigo had dug out every toy he'd ever owned, finding where they'd been packed away and left covered in dust so that they could use them together. He was so excited! He and Renji played with trucks and junk and drove them all over the living room furniture for a while, and then they built a huge garage for them out of legos. They even played with the girls a little with some dollies until they had to go down for a nap. Isshin had liked to see Ichigo take an interest in his sisters again.

Renji gave a big sigh, all played out and ready for a break after the third hour. "Your toys are awesome," he said with a happy grin, closing his eyes where he was lying on his tummy on the floor. Ichigo was next to him, zooming his car around inside the buildings they'd made.

"They're okay," Ichigo said with a shrug, not finding anything he had to be really impressive. He didn't get why Renji liked them so much. They were just normal toys. There were probably a bunch at Renji's orphanage, right, with so many kids living there? Maybe Ichigo could visit there one day. "I don't really play with them much, but my dad keeps getting new ones for my birthday anyways. I have some that are still in the box."

"Really?" Renji said, eyes sparkling. "Can we use those too on another day?"

Ichigo grinned widely, his friend's excitement always serving to wake him up. "Yeah!" he chirped, "Look at this robot I just made! Do you like it?" Ichigo flew the little lego-lump by Renji's arm, landing on top of him with some driving-rocketship sound effects.

"Yeah," Renji replied with a smile, resting his head on the carpet with a content sigh. "I love your house. I wish I could live here."

"You should!" Ichigo said enthusiastically. "You can keep coming over all the time, so it'll be almost like you _are_ living here." Renji shook his head, starting to frown sadly, eyes on the floor as he picked at the rug dejectedly.

"That's not what I mean. I mean, I wish I had a family like you do. I wish I had a mom and a dad and a house," Renji mumbled. "I wish I could be in your family." Isshin looked up from the table in the other room, listening. Ichigo had mentioned to him that Renji was from an orphanage, which was all the more reason for Isshin to continue allowing him to come over, but hearing it said out loud like that by such a young boy - it just made his soul ache.

Receiving a call on the phone that an appointment was going to be moved up to five minutes from now, Isshin put on his lab coat and called a quick warning to the boys that he was going to be in the clinic for a while and that if they needed him or if the girls woke up, to just come get him.

"Okay," Ichigo called back, turning back around to Renji with a sympathetic look. "My family's not perfect either. My momma died," he said lowly, looking at the ground, and he was surprised that the words didn't hurt nearly as much to say as they'd used to.

Renji nodded and rubbed Ichigo's side a little. Ichigo talked about his mom's death for a while and how much it had hurt and that no one had understood, that everyone at school had felt bad for a while, but then had gotten confused when he hadn't moved on, when he hadn't been happy again. He talked about how they'd stopped understanding and how he'd been so alone. Renji talked about the pain of never knowing his own parents and no one wanting him, the pain and hopelessness of having no future, or having no chance for success. The other's listening presence was such a comfort to both of them.

"Wanna' see a picture of my mom?" Ichigo asked. "That's her on the wall on that poster." Renji looked up with recognition.

"I thought that was a movie poster. That's your mommy?… She's… really pretty," Renji said quietly. He then brightened up after staring at the picture for a minute with a thoughtful expression. "Like you!" he peeped, smiling. Ichigo smiled a little in return, then did a double-take, souring.

"Hey!" he pouted, crossing his arms. "Don't say stupid stuff like that." Renji shrugged, laughing and scratching the back of his neck. Ichigo shrugged, smiling a little again. "Yeah. My parents were great when I had them both. My dad acts really dumb and goofy now to try to make me laugh, but I know he misses her a lot too... It's good that I still have him at least."

"I don't think I _have_ parents," Renji said with a sudden confused frown. Ichigo looked to him with furrowed brows.

"Everyone has parents, or else how were you born?"

Renji looked conflicted. "Well, I dunno'…" Then he frowned, looking away. "I don't know who they are or where they went. I don't know anything about who I came from," Renji mumbled. "I don't even know who named me, or if I was taken, or abandoned, or lost, or if… or if anybody ever even loved me at all… I don't remember anything."

"You still had a mom and a dad though," Ichigo said firmly, insistent. "No matter what they did or who they were, they were _somebody._ "

Renji shrugged slightly and then was quiet for a long time, looking at his hands seriously. Ichigo began to feel like he'd said something wrong, and reached out to touch Renji's back.

"Hey, well, you have me now, right?" he said with a tentative smile. "We can be buddies," he said almost nervously. Ichigo didn't know how to make friends anymore. He _thought_ they were friends already, since they'd been playing together so much, but maybe that wasn't how Renji saw things. Did Ichigo have to put up a clear friend-proposal just to make sure? "I mean, if you want to," he trailed off uncertainly when Renji didn't respond right away.

Renji took a moment to process what he'd said and come out of his mental gloom. When he did, he seemed stunned.

"Buddies…" Renji looked up, eyes and face kind of far off and dazed. "You wanna' be buddies with me?" he asked. Ichigo nodded with a wider smile, watching as Renji crawled over near him next to the couch on the floor, almost sandwiched between the wall and the arm of the sofa.

"Really?" Renji asked seriously, still not smiling. Ichigo grinned a little bigger, nodding again. Renji absolutely melted, face going warm and soft, a big hopeful smile coming onto his cheeks. "Do you really mean that?" Ichigo nodded again and again, grinning bigger and bigger. Renji gave a breathless laugh, seeming in disbelief as he ran his hands along Ichigo's arms.

Renji was overjoyed, he was so glad to really have a real friend, somebody who wanted him, somebody who _clearly_ came out and said that they wanted him, just like Rukia always had. Ichigo liked him back, Ichigo really liked him back! Renji was happy, so so happy. He had to show Ichigo how much he liked him, how much he really wanted them to be friends, how happy he was to be this close to him.

Renji leaned in eagerly and tried to kiss Ichigo. Ichigo darted back, and Renji paused, gauging his expression. Ichigo looked surprised, but not upset. Perceiving this as a green light, Renji moved back in and kissed Ichigo's lips. Ichigo didn't yell at him or hit him at all, so Renji kissed him again. Ichigo still did nothing, so he did it again, and again, on his face, on his cheek, on his mouth again.

"Hey," Ichigo said slowly, his surprise finally making way for confusion. "What are you doing?" he asked, brow furrowing as he touched his own mouth where Renji had kissed. Ichigo's mommy had used to do that, but this was different somehow. He began to feel weird, trying to push Renji back, but he was grabbing him all over now.

"That's what you do when you like someone," Renji explained breathlessly, touching Ichigo's chest gently to try to calm him down, seeing that Ichigo was getting a little upset now. "Ronny always does it to me… and I like you a lot," he admitted, biting his lip and fidgeting a little with the collar of Ichigo's shirt. "So that's how come I did it," Renji said nervously, "because I really like you, and that's what you do when you feel like that."

"Oh." Ichigo was quiet for a minute, seeming unsure, but then he asked, "What else are you supposed to do?"

"Well," Renji contemplated for a moment, seeming to bypass most of the details. He shrugged minutely then. "Mostly, you just take off your clothes and fight and touch and kiss a lot. And you put it in." Ichigo frowned. "I like you, Ichigo, I wanna' be your best friend," Renji said quietly, coming closer and touching him, snaking his hand down his tummy towards his jean shorts. "Do you like me?"

"Yeah," Ichigo said uncertainly, starting to squirm and look nervous about what Renji was doing to him. Renji put his hand inside his shirt, flicking the buds on his chest, hovering over him. Ichigo began whimpering, lip wobbling when Renji's hand snaked into his pants. He was starting to get really scared. Why was Renji doing this to him?

Normally Ichigo would get mad if someone was bullying him or trying to hurt him, but this didn't hurt. Renji wasn't being mean, he said he was doing this because he _liked_ him so much. When people hurt each other, they do it because they're mad or they don't like someone, but Renji said this was good, this is how you're supposed to act. Ichigo was very unsure right now. It felt wrong, but Renji said it was okay, that it was good, and Renji wouldn't lie to him, right?

Ichigo whimpered, his breath speeding up. If it was good, then why did he feel so sick right now?

Renji got a little worried when Ichigo started making noise, but he stayed calm overall, merely putting a gentle hand over his mouth to hush him. "Sh," he said comfortingly, rubbing his face as his hand dug around inside his underwear. "Sh, sh, sh," he soothed, trying to calm Ichigo down. He didn't want anyone to hear Ichigo if he started to get too noisy. "It's okay, just stay quiet," Renji whispered, touching Ichigo beneath his underwear without any real skill or goal.

"Hey," Ichigo squeaked, grabbing Renji's wrist in panic. "Stop," Ichigo finally said, voice shaking as he tried to push Renji's hands off of him. "Stop, Renji," he begged, his words cracking a few times as his throat tightened up with tears. He didn't like this. What was Renji doing to him?

"Please," Renji begged earnestly, "If you mean it about being friends, then won't you do this? Don't you like me enough?" His hand paused, and Ichigo bit his lip. Would Renji not want to be his friend anymore if he didn't do this? Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, but… Ichigo was getting really scared.

This wasn't like being beaten up, this was completely different, and Ichigo was really really scared right now. What was Renji going to do to him? Why was he doing this? Was this really how you act when you like somebody? Was Renji just being nice to him? The kissing made sense, because married people kiss, but Ichigo didn't know about this…

Ichigo knew that married people see each other naked, and that they must really like each other if they'd gotten married… Maybe this was like that. Maybe this was okay. He didn't like it, but maybe it would be okay. Maybe it would get better. Renji sounded like he knew, and Renji would never hurt him.

"Well…" Ichigo said uncertainly, looking to the side as Renji tried kissing his mouth again. That wasn't so bad, but Ichigo couldn't help but feel like it was something they weren't supposed to do. The youngest people he'd ever seen kissing had been teenagers, and they weren't both boys. He and Renji weren't supposed to kiss, were they. They shouldn't be doing this.

"Ichigo," Renji said pleadingly, rubbing him once again, causing him to whimper in panic. "Ichigo, I want sex with you." Ichigo looked up in fear, not understanding what he meant.

Renji got on top of him and Ichigo started whimpering again as Renji kissed his mouth over and over. Renji began pulling down his pants and fondling him, and Ichigo was almost crying then, paralyzed by fear, unable to bring himself to push Renji away or to hit him or scream.

"It'll be okay, I cried too. I'll be really good, I promise. I won't hurt you," Renji said soothingly, rubbing Ichigo's cheek, seeming distressed that Ichigo was getting so scared. "Ichigo, it's okay."

Ichigo lay there stiffly, feeling yucky and wrong, but he didn't hit Renji, because Renji wasn't a bully. Renji had never been mean to him and he wouldn't lie to him. Ichigo just couldn't bring himself to believe that Renji would do this to him if it was wrong, but then why didn't he like it? Why was everything inside him screaming for this to stop?

Ichigo was scared. Renji could see that Ichigo was scared, so he tried petting him a bit to calm him down. He would be gentle and Ichigo would like him, it would be okay. Ichigo would see how much Renji liked him once he was done; he'd see that Renji loved him once they did this, if Renji could figure out how. The older boys always said this was really nice, that it felt really good. It was weird, though. Renji had never done this part, and it seemed like he was doing it wrong. Renji wasn't getting hard in his underwear like Ronnie did. Ronnie was fifteen, and he was a lot bigger than Renji. Maybe Renji was doing it wrong. He wasn't getting hard but he kept trying, pressing his hips onto Ichigo's leg.

Renji kissed Ichigo on his neck a couple times, rubbing him and feeling around on Ichigo's body like Ronnie did. He just had to copy what Ronnie did, and things would work out. Renji put his hand back inside Ichigo's underwear, his shorts pulled halfway down his legs.

"Please, I want sex with you," Renji repeated.

"That's enough," they heard from the doorway, and they both startled so violently that they banged their heads against the wall. Ichigo hurried to pull his pants up and Renji's heart began pounding like crazy as he saw Isshin in the doorway coming towards them. Renji scrambled away in fear, legs shaking as Isshin took Ichigo by the arm and pulled him behind him. Ichigo wiped his eyes and sniffed, and Renji could see now that Ichigo had been crying, that he'd really scared him. He'd tried to be nice, but he'd done it just like Ronnie, hadn't he?... Yeah, Ronnie was mean and rough, and Renji was just like him, wasn't he? He'd tried to be different, but he'd just…

"I think you'd better go, kid," Isshin said, glaring down at him, and Renji cowered, lip shaking. There it was, that tone of unwanted, of _garbage_ , of _get-out-of-my-sight._ That tone had _never_ come out of Isshin's mouth towards him, even when he was being scolded, but there it was, plain as day.

"But I-" Renji choked out, absolutely petrified of the adult above him and the anger he could see on his face.

"I don't want you to come around here anymore," Isshin said firmly, then turning to his son where he was clinging to his pant-leg. "Ichigo, I'm sending Tessai to pick you up from school from now on. You're not going to walk home with him anymore, and you're not going to play with him again, do you hear me?" he asserted, not even saying Renji's name, even though he didn't remove his firm gaze from the red-head even once. "He's not going to hurt you again. You're never going to have to see him again, I promise."

Ichigo looked up to him fearfully then, surprised and upset that it was _Renji_ getting in trouble and not him. "Dad!" he shouted as Isshin talked over him and told Renji he needed to leave immediately and not come back. "No!" Ichigo hollered, "He wasn't-"

Renji was shaking all over, shying away, edging around them towards the door. Ichigo thought his heart would break if Renji went away. He hadn't liked what Renji had been doing, but he didn't want Renji to be in trouble! He didn't want him to be sent away! Renji was his only friend- his dad just _couldn't_ tell him that they weren't allowed to play anymore!

"Go," Isshin said, pointing at the door, "and don't you dare come around my son again." Renji's body heaved and he took a shuddery breath that was so close to a sob. Renji was devastated. He hadn't… he hadn't meant for… He hadn't known, he'd…

"No! No, Dad! It's not his fault! I didn't know! I didn't know it was bad! I let him! It's my fault, it's my fault!" Ichigo tried to get Isshin's attention, but it wasn't working. "Listen! Listen! Dad! Please, don't!"

"Go on," Isshin repeated, and Renji took a shaky step in retreat.

" _Daddy!_ " Ichigo howled. That word finally seemed to grab Isshin's attention, and he looked down in surprise at his child, whose face was _streaming_ with tears. Ichigo grabbed onto Isshin's thigh and flopped to his skinny knees. "Please don't send him away!" he begged. His dad couldn't chase off his only friend in the world, he just couldn't. He'd die. He'd absolutely _die._

Isshin looked down in pity. He didn't want to do this. He knew that this Renji boy had been the one to bring his son out of his darkest days, but Isshin wasn't going to just let something like… _this_ go on.

"If he's gonna' act like that, then he can't be here, do you understand me? There are no second chances with that," Isshin explained with regret in his voice, giving Renji a hard look. "It's too late. He has broken my trust. What he did to you was-" Isshin grew red from anger, trying to get the right word out without exploding or throwing up, " _wrong."_

The red-haired boy's legs were shaking around, and he started to cry, thinking Isshin was going to call the police. He was in so much trouble. They were going to beat him so bad. He was never gonna' see Ichigo again. They'd all been right. Isshin was right. He was wrong. He was bad, he was a bad kid; he was a bad boy and _nobody_ loves a bad boy. Renji sniffled and sobbed, hands clamped over his mouth.

Isshin's expression softened a little bit as he set Ichigo on the couch. He reached a hand out to Renji, who finally unfroze and _bolted,_ jamming himself under the kitchen table, squirming back away from Isshin's reach. "… I won't hurt you," Isshin said seriously. "Come to the couch… We should have a talk."

When Isshin went to sit next to his trembling son, Renji ran for it, crawling as fast as he could out from under the table and chair legs, trying to get to the door.

"Renji, please don't leave!" Ichigo begged, holding his arms out for him, sniffling. "Are you mad at me?! I'm sorry!" Renji stopped, biting his lips and getting big skid marks on his shins from the wooden floor of the kitchen. Even after Renji had bullied him like that, Ichigo still didn't want him to go? And Ichigo's dad… didn't sound quite so mad anymore…

He crept towards them slowly, biting his lips and fiddling with his fingers. He felt so bad. He felt really guilty. He was a bad kid; he'd done something really bad and everyone hated him. He deserved to get yelled at and hit. He was horrible. He was a horrible boy. He was _bad._

No wonder nobody wanted him as their son.

Renji's lip wobbled dangerously and his eyes filled with tears again.

He'd hurt Ichigo. He'd scared him. Ichigo had wanted to be his friend, and he'd gone and hurt him. Renji had bitten the hand that had fed him just like a bad dog. Bad dogs deserve to be left outside and never let back in. Even so, he couldn't help but howl and scratch at the door. He wanted to be let back in. He wanted to be good. He was so sorry. He'd never do it again.

Isshin had a serious talk with them, the both of them sat on opposite sides of the couch for safety reasons. Ichigo was wrapped tightly in a blanket, still trembling, while Renji sat in a ball, knees to his chest, head down in shame as he was scolded.

"Touching someone else's private area - that kind of stuff is unacceptable," Isshin explained sternly, not even bothering to say anything about the fact that they were both little boys, that boys shouldn't touch boys. That wasn't what concerned Isshin. What worried him was that they were just so _young._ From what he'd seen, Renji had been going at it like he'd _meant_ it, trying to stimulate both of them; he'd been trying really hard, and it made Isshin want to throw up. Renji was only nine. He'd obviously seen someone be fondled before and had been trying to copy it – or worse, someone had done it to him.

Isshin hated situations like this. He'd dealt with it before in the clinic and the hospital he'd used to work at, and he hated seeing it. To think that his son had grown attached to this kind of kid, this kind of kid that was probably already beyond saving… It was a lost cause. This was one of those school to jail cases. Renji was beyond hope. It was much too late to heal these hurts.

Even so, Isshin had to do something. He had to try _something_ , because Ichigo would never forgive him, would never recover if he sent his friend away. The fact that he'd called him daddy for the first time in so long told him that Ichigo had been desperate. On top of it, he'd _cried_ , and Ichigo hadn't cried since before Masaki died. This was really important. He had to come to some kind of arrangement that would keep the kids together _and_ safe.

Isshin tried to look at this logically. They were just kids, innocent and sweet kids. Isshin believed that with all his heart; he'd seen them playing together, and there was nothing sinister or unsettling about _Renji_ , in and of himself.

But here they were, and this had happened, and Isshin as a father had to do something. He tried to push down his protective urges for Ichigo and keep Renji in mind too. Renji was an orphan and needed a hand to guide him too, and treating him violently or like a vagrant could burn this into his impressionable mind for the rest of his life.

Renji probably hadn't really even known the full implications of what he'd been doing, most likely. He was far from hitting spermarche and wouldn't have been able to do any real damage to Ichigo, but that didn't mean that Ichigo hadn't been traumatized anyways. Renji probably hadn't known better if he'd been having it done to him as well, but still, seeing that had really freaked Isshin out. He knew that Renji wasn't to blame here in any sense, but even so, he still wished it would've been as easy as keeping him away from his son. Any halfway-decent parent knew better than to let their child get into a situation like that. He wasn't going to put Ichigo in danger, but the risk of the alternative was to leave Ichigo in a deeper depression than before.

Depriving Ichigo from the one person he'd connected with in this many years might just send Ichigo into a permanent flat state. Ichigo might end up growing up that way. Isshin could hardly stand the thought.

He didn't have many options here.

Once he asked them, they said that they'd never done anything like that before today, and Isshin breathed a private sigh of relief. At least it hadn't been going on without him knowing about it. He was so glad he'd walked in when he had, because this wasn't going to happen again on his watch, although he doubted it would anyways. Renji looked like he felt horrible enough for what he'd done, telling Isshin everything he'd needed to know. This wasn't a predator, but an abused child doing what he knew to be alright, but it _wasn't_ alright.

"You only do those things when you're a grown-up, after you get married, _when you both say yes_ _,_ " he told both of them, but looked at Renji in particular. Renji's head hung in shame as he looked down at his lap, where his fingers played around with his tattered shirt.

"I'm sorry," he said in a small cracked voice. Isshin's expression softened.

"I'm not angry with you," Isshin replied honestly, and Renji peeked up with watery eyes, snot running down from his nose. "The point is, that is unacceptable behavior, and you may _not_ do that again to my son or to anyone else. It's not okay for anyone to do that to you either, even if they're a grown-up." Renji nodded, shoulders slumping, his limp defensive frame absolutely _screaming_ shame. Isshin could see that his disappointment was really wounding Renji's spirit, but he didn't want to risk the red-haired boy ever doing this again.

He'd scared the two kids so bad that he was certain that they wouldn't do it again – Isshin would make sure of that – but what concerned him now was _why_ Renji had done it. No nine-year old goes that far without some outside influence contributing to it. Renji had picked that up from somewhere, and if he'd been living in a poorly funded orphanage in the inner-city, Isshin didn't have to stretch his imagination.

"Have you told an adult what's been happening to you?" Isshin asked seriously, and Renji looked up to him, wiping his wet face with his shirt, blowing his nose with it. He didn't bother to ask how Isshin knew.

"I asked Coyote for help… but he didn't do anything," Renji said miserably. Starrk was nice to him, but he was just seventeen and was almost always high or sleeping. If he was awake, he'd protect him, but he couldn't be relied on.

"Who else knows about this?" Isshin asked, and Renji bit his lip. Ichigo's dad looked mad again. Renji felt bad. He felt horrible. He felt like a bad person. Something must be wrong with him. That's why no one wanted him. That's why these things kept happening to him.

"Grimmjow," Renji said, talking about his bunk-mate of the same age, who also had had it happen to him a few times. He and Grimmjow were pretty much the only two who were chosen out of the bunch. Maybe it was because they were the most noticeable, with their bright hair. "And… all the boys in my room." The older ones that didn't participate thought it was funny, or otherwise they'd just ignore it and look disgusted or uncomfortable.

Isshin sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing them a little. Finally he said, "I don't wanna' see you doing that again, you hear?" Isshin said seriously, but not threateningly. It made Renji feel incredibly ashamed.

"I'm sorry," Renji whimpered. Ichigo just sat there quietly, holding his knees to his chest, looking dazed. "I'm sorry, Ichigo," he said softly, sniffling.

"It's okay," Ichigo replied dully.

"I just… I thought it was good," Renji said, sniffing as his eyebrow pushed together. Isshin shook his head.

"No," he said firmly, "What you're doing is bullying. What they're doing to _you_ is bullying. You don't allow anyone to touch you like that. You say 'no', you kick and scream, and you keep telling the adults until someone listens. You tell _me…_ You two touching each other is okay, wrestling is okay, playing is okay, but don't do that again, you two. _"_ Isshin gave a wry grimace and then a wary smile as he turned his head to the side to look at them with one eye. "I don't wanna' see you guys playin' like that again until you're at least twenty."

"Okay, dad," Ichigo croaked. Renji nodded, head down. For the rest of the day, the two boys were mostly silent, even through dinner, both of them feeling the awkwardness and tension in the air.

Renji just let that run over in his mind. Of all the times he'd heard boys who touched boys get beat up and called names, it had been because they were both the same, because one of them wasn't a girl. However, with Isshin, it wasn't because they were both boys. It had never been about that. It was just because they were too young. That last thing he'd said had made him realize that. It was only bad because they weren't grown up yet, just like how driving and smoking and having a gun isn't allowed - in theory - until you're all grown up.

Isshin told Renji that he was staying at their house for the night, unwilling to let him go back to that place. Now that he knew what was going on, he wasn't going to let it continue. He knew that Renji might be moved to another place, to foster parents, taken away by social services, and that Ichigo might hate him for it, but he wouldn't let a young boy be hurt like that. He hated these situations, but he wouldn't sit quiet and let his son's friend be hurt again.

* * *

Ikkaku pet their kitty a little and played with it, using the new toys Yumichika had brought over, while Yumichika lay on Ikkaku's bed and hugged his pillow contently.

"I think she's happy here. What do you think?" Ikkaku asked, looking over to him across his room. Yumichika had been so happy to visit his pet, and they'd already played with her for a good long time, talking about how someday they'd live together and _really_ share her.

"Kids! I don't see the door open!" Kenpachi called. Ikkaku groaned, but kicked his door open and hollered back that he was being too noisy. Ikkaku grumped and stomped around his room for a minute, crossing his arms and pouting in the direction of the open door, even though Kenpachi couldn't see him from there.

He never should've told Kenpachi that he liked Yumichika that way. Ever since then, they weren't allowed to sleep in his room together or keep the door shut while they played.

"Ugh." Ikkaku sulked a little, making sure Haruki didn't escape out into the house. He knew that Kenpachi was making him leave the door open out of concern for _Yumichika_ and not him. All these grown-ups thought they were too young to like each other and to kiss, but gosh, Ikkaku just wanted an opening! He wouldn't go further than that! All he wanted was a quick smooch and that was all, honest! He wasn't too young, he was eleven; that was practically a man!

"Don't growl at me, kid! You leave the door open or you'll have to play in the living room where I can see you! That's our deal!"

Ikkaku stuck his tongue out at the doorway. Yumichika just got off Ikkaku's bed in case Kenpachi walked by and saw him, not that he would've cared.

Anyways, their sleepover night had been an all-out success so far, but Yumichika was starting to get tired. They'd done everything they'd planned, and now they were just lazing around for a little while.

Ikkaku eventually admitted begrudgingly as they wandered out into the front room, "It's Kenpachi's poker night, so Miss Retsu's gonna' be here to take care of Yachiru."

"And us too, right?" Yumichika piped up curiously, his cat following at his heels.

"Hmph," Ikkaku sulked, crossing his arms. He didn't need a babysitter, but Kenpachi always insisted on sending _someone_ over. "No."

"Little squirt," Kenpachi said with a fond wolvish grin that made Ikkaku blush in anger and embarrassment. "You're only eleven. M'not dumb enough to leave you and a baby with your friend alone for the night. I wasn't born in the woods."

Ikkaku took a breath to retort with a grin, and Kenpachi gave him a hard look that made him close it again.

"Miss Unohana's gonna' put Yachiru ta' bed and make sure you guys don't leave the house. That's all she's here for, so don't act like she's out to ruin your fun. Don't put on anything over the 14 rating, and don't you dare get on that roof." Ikkaku blinked innocently like that hadn't been their plan at all. "I told her already you're supposed to be sleeping in the living room, so don't try nothin' funny," he said to his kid with a warning glare. "You behave, or there'll be heck ta' pay." Ikkaku frowned balefully and nodded.

"Alright," Kenpachi said, easing back on his harsh attitude and smiling. Yumichika smiled a little uncertainly, still a little shy of Ikkaku's huge parent. "You two have fun. The pizza'll be here in a little bit - the money's on the counter. I'm gonna' get Yachiru ready for bed right now. If Retsu starts having trouble with her, just let her know what to do, Ikkaku."

Ikkaku nodded. "Okay." He turned to Yumichika. "C'mon, let's play Pacman!"

They played for about an hour, only looking up to say hi and bye when Unohana arrived and Kenpachi left. Yachiru wore herself out bouncing away in her playpen, and was then put in her crib in Kenpachi's room. From then, Ikkaku kept glancing suspiciously over to the woman where she was seated and reading at the table. He didn't like her being there, although she was a nice lady. He felt like he had to act a certain way, not wanting her to know he was a wild child, because he had no doubt that she'd tell Kenpachi anything he did. Looks like their roof-climbing plans were shot.

Plus he couldn't kiss Yumichika or hold his hand with her here.

He'd have to wait till they were at Yumichika's house. They were allowed to close the door at _his_ house. Ikkaku would have to kiss him then. He wondered if Yumichika was still grounded, besides this sleepover.

"So, is your dad not mad anymore?"

"He's never not mad, I think," Yumichika said with a sigh. "I dunno' when you'll be allowed to come over again."

"Hmph," Ikkaku grumbled, although he'd expected this. Yumichika's dad didn't like him at all.

Ikkaku could feel it when Yumichika's dad looked at him, it was like the guy _knew_ how he felt about his son and was waiting for him to put one toe out of line so he could cut it off. He didn't like it one bit. Still, Ikkaku would take all the disapproval and suspicion in the world for his buddy, for his Yumichika.

They played and they played until they couldn't anymore.

When they were finally tired out and ready to sleep at ten thirty, barely able to keep their eyes open, Ikkaku cast a wary look towards Miss Unohana as he snuggled up to Yumichika. She didn't say a word, looking over to them, turning a page of her book. Satisfied with the lack of response, Ikkaku put both arms and legs around his friend, who did the same thing, and they fell asleep almost immediately. Ikkaku's mouth hung open as he snored softly, chin pressed against Yumichika's forehead, while Yumichika ground his teeth slightly, squeezing his muscles involuntarily as he dreamed.

* * *

* Trigger Warning: Child-on-child abuse of a sexual nature. _Non-graphic, and does not make it very far. This is not meant to be a 'lemon' or seen as 'erotic' in any way._


	7. Chapter 7

Isshin put on some plastic gloves and gently touched the leg of the small boy sitting on his paper-covered cushioned table. Renji's head was down and his fingers were fidgeting. The boy understood that Isshin needed to take a look at him and make a report, but that didn't make him feel very at ease.

Renji hated going to the doctor's. Isshin said that he had to look at his body, and Renji understood why. Isshin hadn't said, but Renji knew that he was going to call the police or something, he was going to tell, he was going to get Renji in trouble, get _them_ in trouble. He was going to be sent away. Doctors never listen to him, they always tell. They never will keep secrets.

First Isshin just looked over his arms and legs, and then felt through his hair, touching his scalp. It reminded him of when he'd been checked for lice. His heart was pounding so hard against his skinny ribs, but he managed to sit still. He felt a little sick, to be honest.

He had to take off his clothes so that Isshin could check him. He only had to take one thing off at a time so that he wouldn't be so scared, but it still made him very nervous. He didn't want to be looked at; he was sure Ichigo's daddy would get mad again if he saw.

Isshin wrote copious notes, rubber-covered fingers brushing against Renji's chest and back. This boy was malnourished, slightly jaundiced, had burn marks on his upper arms, and a scar on his back that had surely been from a wound that had been severely infected at one point. He could see all of his ribs, and his stomach was a little bloated. How had he not noticed this before? Isshin made a displeased noise, shaking his head as he wrote. Renji held his tummy with both hands, trembling slightly, knowing what came next as he put his shirt back over his head and started to pull his pants and underwear down.

Isshin took notice of the bruises on Renji's legs and hips, and was about to investigate further when Renji suddenly cracked, finally jerking away from his touch and wrapping himself in a tight ball, breathing fast.

"Please let me examine you. This is for your own benefit," Isshin assured, rubbing Renji's shoulder in what he hoped was comfort. The poor boy was trembling.

Renji didn't like this at all. Going to the doctor's office was luckily something that didn't happen often, because there wasn't much money for it at the orphanage. Unfortunately, that meant that the only times he went were when something big had happened, which made the whole thing a traumatic experience. Having to be looked at and touched was bad enough, but having to talk to the police was worse. He had to worry about what would happen to him if the cops caught him lying, but worried more about what would happen back home if they realized he'd told the truth.

Not to mention he was terrified of needles after what had happened with Bazz-B overdosing while he was supposed to be watching after him and some other kids. The whole experience of being looked at by a doctor was just high anxiety and made Renji feel even more sick than before. If he cried about feeling yucky, the adults always said he'd better suck it up or they'd give him a _real_ reason to cry. Sometimes they really would.

Isshin had said that what he'd tried to do with Ichigo was a bad thing to do. Renji had told him that he'd never do it again and Isshin had forgiven him, but that was only because Isshin didn't know that Renji had already done that with other people. Ronnie had already done it to him, and now Isshin would know. Isshin would see, Isshin would see that he'd been bad and would tell everyone. Renji would be in trouble again. He didn't want anyone to know. He didn't want Isshin to touch him too.

"Please, Renji. I'm asking for trust. I will never hurt you."

" _You're_ the one who said I shouldn't let anyone touch me or look at me!" Renji half-wailed, going silent again, shaking all over. If he made Isshin mad, it would just be worse again. He was lucky enough that he hadn't beat him senseless for touching Ichigo, and then Renji had to go and sass him. No, no, no, he didn't want it, he didn't want this. He wanted Rukia. He wanted Grimmjow and Rukia and he wanted to go to sleep where nobody could hurt him.

Isshin squatted down to his eye-level, giving him that same look of concern… that… that he gave to Ichigo. Renji peeked one eye up above his knees. "The only people you let touch and look at you are your parents and your doctor," Isshin said, and Renji took a shaky breath. "When I became a doctor, I made a promise to help people and use my knowledge to make them well. It's called the hippocratic oath. It's a special promise that all doctors have to make before they can help people," Isshin told him. "I'm only here to help you, so you can trust me. But if you start feeling unsafe," Isshin said with one hand in the air, "touch your forehead, and I'll stop whatever I'm doing right away. But I want you to try and trust me, alright? It is very important that I take a look at you so that I know what's wrong. Can you do that?"

Renji sniffled and ground his knuckles into his eyes, but nodded and stood up on the floor, spreading his legs apart and turning around, hands over his privates. He knew the drill. He'd been looked at before, but he sure didn't like it. It was always more than one doctor, and they'd whisper to themselves like he wasn't even there. He'd get prodded and it made him feel like an animal in the zoo. He squeezed his eyes shut tight.

Isshin did a full sweep of Renji's lower body, not touching much, writing down some cursory notes. He warned Renji that he was taking samples, and used a few swabs to collect any evidence that might have remained. He found clear signs that penetration had taken place, which made him want to throw up. No matter how many times he'd dealt with a child that this had happened to, it never ceased to horrify him.

What killed Isshin was that Renji was completely still, not shaking any more, breaths calm. It wasn't out of trust, but passiveness. The kid was just letting whatever happened happen, even though Isshin hadn't done anything inappropriate or touched him for longer than a moment.

He helped Renji get his clothes back on and boosted him onto the counter, gave him an ice pack for the bruises on his hips, and tended to a few cuts and scrapes on his legs. Renji blinked a few times, eyes lidded as Isshin cared for him very very gently, like he had for Ichigo that day. This warmth began spreading through him like soup would in his belly, and it bubbled up through his chest and up his throat and into his eyes.

His mouth stretched in a ghastly grimace, lip wobbling. Isshin's hands were warm and so gentle. Renji began sniffling softly, the tears just coming out and spilling down his cheeks, and before he knew it, he was whimpering and choking.

Suddenly, warm arms were around him and he could smell cologne and rubbing alcohol, face pressed into a tacky Hawaiian shirt, the white fabric of a lab coat draping around him and shielding his body. He was being held.

It took Renji about a second and a half to cling on fiercely and begin to sob, refusing to let go as all the hurt and fear began to pour out of him and make way for this warm feeling. He could feel a hand holding his head securely and the other one rubbing his back, and there was a soothing voice in his ear as he was rocked slightly. This is what he dreamed about at night; his fondest dream would be his mother, the mother he'd never met, the mother he liked to imagine was a beautiful princess, holding his head to her chest and stroking his hair. This was that same feeling, even though it wasn't his real parent. He felt like somebody cared, and it was just doing something to his heart. He didn't know why, but he was crying. He couldn't stop crying.

"What they did to you was bad, but it doesn't make _you_ bad. It wasn't your fault. You did nothing wrong. That will never happen to you again with me here. I promise you." Renji began snuffling and shaking as he tried to reign it in and stop blubbering so hard, nodding and hiccupping as Isshin held him. He blinked against the wetness, going silent, keeping his head against Isshin's body. He didn't want this to end… Even if this wasn't his father, he wanted to leech out some of the love that was rightfully Ichigo's.

Ichigo…

"Does Ichigo hate me?" Renji asked in a small voice, wiping his eyes as Isshin finally separated them. "I… I still really like him, and I wanna' kiss him on his face," he admitted quietly. "I won't touch him in his pants again, but I still wanna' kiss him. Is that bad? What if he hates me now for what I did?"

Isshin gave a half-smile. "Ichigo loves you, Renji-kun. He didn't smile until he met you." Renji looked up with big round eyes, sniffing. "My son will never hate you. I told him to go to bed, but he's probably sitting right outside the door." Becoming serious, but still not harsh, Isshin went on to say, "Be a good example, Renji. Ichigo looks up to you. I'm trusting you with my son and his happiness. Don't do anything to ruin that."

Renji nodded again and again. "Good." Isshin then made to pretend like he was looking around for anyone who might be listening in, even though it was just the two of them in the room. Then he put a hand to the side of his mouth like he was telling a secret, raising his eyebrows. Renji sniffed and looked on curiously, leaning his ear in. "Don't try kissing him again until you're way older. Maybe fifteen." Renji blinked.

Isshin clapped him on the shoulder. "Now, go on ta' sleep. I laid some blankets on the sofa for you."

"Dad?" Ichigo peeped, sticking his head around the door, frowning when he saw Renji hastily scrubbing at his face with his wrists. "Can Renji sleep in my room?"

"No, Ichigo," Isshin said firmly, stressing out when he saw Ichigo begin to get upset and stubborn. It was too late at night for this. Ichigo wasn't one for serious tantrums or angry outbursts, even since his mother had died, but Isshin was willing to bet that this might be that one time that it would happen. Renji seemed to be his exception to these things like smiling and playing, and even crying.

"I don't wanna' sleep alone," Ichigo begged, ruining his pleading with a glare, and Isshin relented just this once because of how much this whole night had tried his patience. Even so, he wasn't dumb enough to let them sleep alone in Ichigo's room after what had just happened. He laid a few comforters and a couple mattress-pads down on the floor and brought some pillows for the boys.

Renji kept drilling his knuckles into his eyes as both of the kids stood and watched Isshin set up their bed. When he finally stopped trying to get rid of the evidence of his tears, he blinked balefully and then looked surprised when Isshin told them to go ahead and get ready for sleep. "This is where we lay?" he asked, looking up to him with an open mouth, blinking at him.

Ichigo went to get his pajamas on, finally straying from Renji's side now that he was sure his dad wasn't going to make him leave when he wasn't looking.

"Yes, on the floor for tonight," Isshin said uncomfortably. It hadn't been so long ago that he would've let them have a sleepover, the two of them both in Ichigo's bed, but now… He'd been spooked pretty bad after seeing his son crying like that. Isshin needed to keep an eye on them for their own safety, otherwise he wouldn't have ever made them sleep on the floor.

That hadn't been what Renji had meant, it seemed, because he murmured, "It looks just like the bed we all have." After a few more quiet moments, he pointed at the blankets and pillows and said, " _I_ get a pillow?"

"Yes."

Renji made a surprised noise, but seemed pleased, standing a little straighter as he waited for his buddy to come back. Isshin went into the kitchen for some coffee now that things had settled down a bit, and Renji wandered to the opening of the hallway, staying in his line of sight.

"Ichigo," he called quietly, not wanting to wake the girls obviously. "Ichigo, why are you taking so long?" he asked, but not in a mean way.

Ichigo's orange head stuck out of the bathroom, his toothbrush in his mouth. "Just one more minute, geez," he replied, toothpaste spilling onto his lip. Renji frowned, getting a little closer, but not going into the bathroom with him. He watched Ichigo's reflection in the mirror while he brushed his teeth.

"Your teeth are so nice!" Renji said incredulously. Ichigo shrugged a little, yawning, and Renji took another opportunity to keep looking at his teeth.

Isshin stuck his head in the hallway when he could no longer see either of them, and they immediately went back to the living room. Ichigo came back in his pajamas while Renji was allowed to keep wearing what he had on, and they crawled under the covers and closed their eyes. Isshin could see their little bodies were very tense and rigid, but after a few minutes of silence, they calmed down a bit, stopping with their tossing and turning.

Isshin sighed as the boys fell asleep quickly, nestled against each other, touching just slightly. He stayed awake, pacing the kitchen and making a police report over the phone. Next, he phoned in Kisuke, who was unsurprisingly still awake at that late hour. Needless to say, when Isshin asked him to do something for him, Kisuke was not pleased.

"Hey listen," he said when he heard sounds of protests as he called in 'the favor'. "You owe me. Yes… Yes… I'll take care of him. I'll pay. All you have to do is- Yes… That's right. Alright, thank you. Good night."

Isshin placed the phone back in the receiver, rubbing his temples and looking over at the boys where they were asleep in the living room. Ichigo was sleeping curled up on his side, one hand fisting in the blanket and holding it over his face, but Isshin knew it was a poor disguise for the fact that he had his thumb in his mouth with his other hand.

Renji was on his stomach, arms beneath him, presumably self-comforting. Isshin watched for a minute as Renji began wiggling his hips around in his sleep and breathing strangely. His hands were obviously inside his pants, on his lower tummy, and his body was moving subtly and rocking against that area in a way that was _almost_ but not quite lewd. Isshin gave a disappointed sigh. Ichigo had stopped self-comforting that way when he'd turned four.

Isshin sat at the kitchen table, thinking about lighting up a cigarette for once on a day that wasn't his wife's anniversary, but decided against it. He stayed up all night and watched them sleep, just to make sure they were fine. Tomorrow morning, he'd call social services and submit evidence to the police.

Renji may be sent away to another facility, and Ichigo might never forgive him for that, but Isshin wouldn't allow this to continue. He had a moral obligation to make sure that child had a fighting chance at a happy life.

Isshin couldn't believe he hadn't noticed this before. The fact that Renji came wearing the same clothes all the time, the survival lessons, the harsh language, the way he crammed down food, the sudden bouts of illness. This kid had been mistreated, and he had significant evidence that pointed towards this kid being touched, _raped_ even, because even if Renji had somehow agreed, he was nowhere _near_ of age to consent. Even now, watching him move his sleeping body around to soothe himself at night, Isshin could tell that although this was normal behavior children use to calm themselves down, it wasn't in this case – it fit with the other clues.

How long had this poor kid suffered? How long would it have gone on if he hadn't caught this? God, the thought of it kept him up for a long time.

...

When he woke up in the morning, he was lying face down on the table, cheek stuck there from drool, and as he sat up and wiped it off, he quickly lay himself back down when he heard little voices. He glanced subtly over at the bedding on the floor, which had been abandoned. The boys were up and awake already and had probably tiptoed right around him.

He could see Ichigo on the counter in the kitchen where Renji had boosted him, and they were making cereal for themselves and the girls, having made quite a mess already. Luckily, there was no spilled milk, but there was cereal all over the counter and probably on the floor too.

Seeing Ichigo squatting on the counter like a little bird reminded Isshin of a similar time. He thought of his son at four years old, who'd still liked cartoons and who'd tried to pour orange juice for his mommy and bring it to her. Renji stood next to him at the counter, struggling to hold the milk jug with both his skinny arms, watching Ichigo pour the cereal.

"Sshh, shh! Karin, shh!" Renji shushed the girl who was pouting and whining for her cornflakes. There was a thud as he hefted the milk onto the counter, probably freeing his hands to give her a bowl. "Shhhh, he'll wake up. Here you go, you can just eat on the floor right here." Isshin's brow creased, but he just smiled a little at the boy's sweet, kind tone of voice.

"No, Renji," Ichigo said. "Not on the floor, that's not good."

"Oh," Renji said, crestfallen, and Isshin didn't move from where he was now pretending to sleep. "That's where I usually eat breakfast…" He sounded troubled, but lightly confused, as if wondering where else someone could eat breakfast and was interested to know. "The floor is for kids, and the table is for grown-ups."

"No, that's wrong. We just can't eat there now, cause' Dad's sleeping on it still. Karin, creep into the living room and eat at the coffee table," Ichigo instructed, and Karin marched over there. Renji watched her go with a cocked head.

Isshin closed his eyes as he heard little footsteps pass by him. He peeked one eyelid open slightly to see his girls eating in front of the couch quietly, sitting by each other.

"Ichigo," Renji said in a concerned whisper, "Should they eat there? I thought the coffee table is where you drink beer? I mean, that makes no sense, since it's called ' _coffee-_ table,' but…" His voice trailed off.

"That's where you eat cereal to watch cartoons, since it's close to the TV," Ichigo replied, Isshin only able to hear some of his words, because he was a lot better at whispering than Renji was.

"But you guys get to eat at the big table with your dad?" Renji asked enviously. "All the _time?"_ Ichigo nodded or something, Isshin didn't see, but Renji made a noise of response. "Huh," he mumbled, lip sticking out in contemplation.

"Renji, can you get the broom, we should clean this so he doesn't know," Ichigo whisper-called, perching on the balls of his feet on the counter-top. Renji held Ichigo's side just in case he toppled over onto the floor.

"Okay," he agreed. "Where is it? I like sweeping!" Isshin smirked. Urahara would probably have Renji sweeping a lot too. Meanwhile, these kids were horrible with being stealthy.

"Ssh!" Ichigo reminded.

" _I like sweeping_ ," Renji repeated in a whisper, hands cupped around his mouth, moving towards Ichigo's ear. Ichigo snorted and pushed his face away.

"I heard you the first time, Renji," Ichigo chirped, sitting up on the counter and letting his legs swing over the edge. Isshin just took a moment to stare at his smiling child, whose eyes were bright and glowing. "I think I want fruit in my breakfast, what about you?" he said cheerfully.

"I always get a piece of bread. Or sometimes oatmeal." Renji then hummed. "Usually nothing. I'm not always hungry for breakfast anymore." Ichigo pursed his lips for a moment before his enthusiasm at having his friend with him in the morning kicked back into gear.

"What do you _feel_ like?" Ichigo said with exaggeration. Renji 'hmm'ed, then asking what they could have. "Anything!" Ichigo said with a big grin, opening the fridge door.

"Really?! Out of the fridge?!"

Isshin snickered a little as he watched the two boys huddling on their knees on the ground in front of the door, their heads close together as they peered around.

These two kids really looked like their heads were on fire.

* * *

"Hey, Gorgeous," Ikkaku chirped, resting on Yumichika's bed as they played Gameboy back to back. "Pass me that Okorizaru card," he asked, holding his hand back for Yumichika to fumble around and give it to him, neither of them taking their eyes off their game.

"Aaaaand…" Ikkaku bit his lip and hit his 'a' button for the last time, holding it down as if it would make the attack more severe. "Cross chop! Hah!"

Yumichika was quiet against him, watching his poor Sneasel's health go down to almost nothing. "That's what you get for using Dark and Ice type on Fighting type, Yumichika! You're no match for me!" Yumichika's mouth stretched in a thin line, but he said nothing.

Ikkaku was quiet for a minute, waiting for a counterattack to come. Suddenly it dawned on him. "No. You didn't. No way, no way, aw dang, I'm dead meat," he muttered. Yumichika snickered darkly. "You used a TM, didn't you. Admit it!"

He heard Yumichika click a button. Aw dang, aw _dang_ , it was all over!

Ikkaku watched in horror as 'Sneasel used _Aerial Ace'_ appeared on his screen. Primeape was hit – of course it was, the attack could not be evaded - and Ikkaku just stared, not breathing as the super effective move drained his health alarmingly quickly. Luckily for him, it slowed down and left him just barely inside the yellow.

"Whew," he said, smirking cockily. "Like I said, you're no match for me." Primeape used Karate chop, and Sneasel fainted, crying out and falling off the screen. Ikkaku waited to see what lame Pokémon Yumichika had left, only slightly worried. Yumichika's favorite Pokémon was Weezing, which hadn't been sent out yet. It would probably be Weezing, which was stupid, because Poison type was also awful against Fighting type. Man, Yumichika was no good at this game. Ikkaku had this in the bag.

Yumichika sent out Sableye.

" _Noooo!_ " Ikkaku wailed, kicking his legs and flopping his head back onto Yumichika's shoulder, feeling him laughing. Fighting type moves couldn't land a hit on a Ghost type Pokémon. Which sucked, because _all of Ikkaku's Pokémon were Fighting type._

"Okay, I think you win," Ikkaku muttered begrudgingly, but no, Yumichika made him finish the game and absolutely _slaughtered_ him. It was pretty embarrassing. Dang that stupid 'Wonder guard' ability. Ikkaku grumped around for a few minutes until Yumichika cheered him up by telling him that he'd gotten five of Yumichika's six person team with just Primeape. Meanwhile, Yumichika had taken out Ikkaku's _entire_ team with just Sableye, and without taking more than two hits. Still, having Yumichika try to make him feel better soothed the humiliation a little.

They got to talking about the upcoming carnival and whether they wanted to go swimming at the pool soon. Ikkaku wanted to, but Yumichika didn't. Ikkaku never said anything about it, but he suspected Yumichika didn't want to take his shirt off in front of anyone. It upset him a little to know that Yumichika was self-conscious, but he totally understood and didn't push, although he suggested that they swim a lot.

Yumichika had started wearing more colorful clothes since he and Ikkaku had become friends, but the things he'd worn before, it was cause for concern. Dull dank colors, ones that Yumichika would profess to hate in other situations. Ikkaku had seen Yumichika more than once with a bad haircut that the poor boy would cry about in the privacy of his room. He'd seen him style it and use his sisters mascara, he'd seen Yumichika make himself pretty, brighten himself up. Yumichika never looked happier than when he was in bright colors that he deemed beautiful, and Ikkaku could tell that was who he was, that there was a butterfly in his soul that was trying to fly but wasn't able to get out of a jar. His father. His father wouldn't let him paint his nails and would express disapproval over a lot of things, even folders or socks that were too 'flamboyant'. Yumichika had put a feather in his hair once, and his father had cut his hair short... _short_. Short like Shuuhei's.

Ikkaku hadn't been friends with him at the time, but Yumichika had later told him about it. They both were upset about it, but it continued to happen. Whenever Yumichika's hair grew too far past his jaw, it would get cut shorter again, not nearly as short as before, but enough to cause Yumichika extreme distress.

Now wasn't one of those times. Yumichika's hair was at its optimal length, the one they both liked the best where it was jaw-length. He'd stopped taking to hiding his face so much and curled one side of his hair around his ear, letting it stick out a little on that side where the cut-job was a little messed up still. Ikkaku thought he was beautiful. He'd never seen a prettier boy, and Ikkaku loved looking at him.

What worried him was that someone else felt the same way. That boy. Shuuhei was only ten, but he was a threat. If it was that simple, Ikkaku would just beat him up and tell him to _back off_ , but Yumichika wouldn't like that at all. Yumichika liked this kid, and Ikkaku didn't wanna' look bad.

Speaking of, Yumichika kept mentioning him in passing and it was beginning to grate Ikkaku's patience and make him really nervous. Which was a problem, because when Ikkaku was nervous, he was irritable.

Yumichika was talking about the science fair now and about how 'Shuuhei' this and 'Shuuhei' that, that the kid needed help with his project and that he was working really hard and that his ideas were so good-

"What, are you gonna' invite Hisagi over again?" Ikkaku asked aggressively. "Cause' that's what it's sounding like."

"I might," Yumichika said uncertainly, looking at Ikkaku weirdly when he began to scowl and pout, crossing his arms. "Ikkaku, he's really nice. If you played with him, you'd see that he's fun and you'd like him probably." He thought for a moment, frowning, eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Why _don't_ you like him, anyways?"

"Hmph," Ikkaku grumped, remembering what he'd learned from Kenpachi about honesty, "He's handsomer than me, and you're handsome too, so I think you like him more than me sometimes."

"But he's not my best friend. You are," Yumichika said quietly with a small smile. "So don't worry so much, okay?"

"Yumichika, you're so awesome," Ikkaku said with a little relieved sigh, smiling, rubbing his arms. "I like you."

Yumichika looked down at his lap, hiding his pretty eyes by looking downwards. Ikkaku's smile faded. Yumichika was so so beautiful. It made him feel like a baby bird was in his tummy, flapping and fluttering around. "I like you too, Ikkaku."

"No, I mean, I _like-_ like you," Ikkaku said meaningfully, although he's sure they've had this conversation many many times. Even so, he always loves the part when Yumichika looks up with that little smile.

"Me too."

Instead of letting the moment pass like hundreds of other times, Ikkaku decided to kiss him _now_. Yes, before he could chicken out because of his lack of self-confidence. Even if Yumichika didn't want him to do it again, he wanted to kiss him this once so that Yumichika would know how much he really meant that he liked him. Yumichika made him so so happy.

"Ikkaku?"

"I'm gonna' kiss you now, okay?"

He leaned in and puckered up, eyes sweetly closed as he blindly pecked Yumichika on the lips. He opened his eyes for a minute to see his reaction before letting them slip shut again. He did it again and staying there longer, lips just pressed onto Yumichika's and making a little 'chu' sound. Yumichika stayed still for a minute until Ikkaku did it one more time, and then Yumichika turned his head to the side to uncrunch their noses, kissing back a little bit.

Ikkaku's heart started doing this fluttering thing too to match up with that bird in his stomach. Yumichika was kissing him on the lips! He was so happy, he was so so happy. They kept kissing, their movements completely innocent and very sweet, just a bunch of repeated little kisses on each other's mouths in the same spot, feather-light, eyes closed, no wandering hands. Ikkaku felt really really happy, sighing dreamily and smiling onto Yumichika's mouth and rubbing the tips of their noses together before kissing him again and holding Yumichika's face with his hands.

The ajar door suddenly creaked, having been left open wide enough that passersby could see in. Yumichika looked up in horror as his father stormed into the room. They jolted apart, but it was too late.

Ikkaku got dragged out by his ear, out of bed, out of the room, down the hall, and he just hissed and walked along with him, heart pounding as he tried not to trip with each threatening yank. Ow, his grip was so tight. Ikkaku felt sick. This was worse than anything they could've been caught doing. This was exactly what he hadn't wanted to happen. This was bad, this was really bad. Yumichika was going to be in so much trouble. Ikkaku too. He bet they were going to tell Kenpachi and then they wouldn't be allowed to play together anymore.

Just thinking about it made it impossible to breathe.

"Father, no! No!" he could hear Yumichika shouting, feeling his arms trying to reach for him. He tried to turn to see what Yumichika was doing, most likely clinging to the back of his dad's shirt, but with a hard yank, his head was pulled back in the other direction. "Don't hurt him, please! Please, let go! We weren't- It's-"

Ikkaku was dragged down the stairs and shoved towards the front door. He almost tripped as he went to pick up his shoes and put them on. He could hear Yumichika begging as he rubbed his sore ear, not hearing anything from Yumichika's dad at all. He could hear footsteps, someone stalking around, someone hovering over him, but he didn't look up.

" _Daddy!"_ Yumichika screamed from where he was collapsed at the top of the stairs, tears streaming down his face.

Ikkaku looked up sharply, seeing that Yumichika's dad had done the same, but that was the last thing he saw before his ears burned with some stern filthy words from Yumichika's dad and he was practically thrown outside.

Suddenly it hit Ikkaku, those words just _hit_ him and he realized that this whole ordeal had never been about them being too young or that they thought Yumichika was too young to kiss, that either of them were too young to be in love. It was because they were both boys.

It... It hadn't _felt_ wrong, but...

The door slammed, and Ikkaku could then hear somebody clambering frantically on the stairs, tearful begging, then yelling.

Ikkaku's heart seized and he turn and ran home as fast as he could. He had to get Kenpachi, he had to, he needed help, he couldn't- he had to- he-

Hurling the door to his house open and stumbling in, practically collapsing on the floor as he tried hard to breathe. He had ran, he'd ran all the way there and here he was on his knees, gripping Kenpachi's pant-legs. Ikkaku had told Kenpachi that he'd liked Yumichika, but Kenpachi had never told him it was bad or wrong. Ikkaku hadn't known. He hadn't known that it wasn't okay to kiss Yumichika, that it wasn't okay to like a boy. Kenpachi had never told him, and Ikkaku hadn't known, and now everything was falling apart.

It was Ikkaku's fault, it was his fault and he couldn't stop the consequences. He needed help. Kenpachi was a grown-up, Kenpachi had to help. Ikkaku had to beg on his knees and things would be okay. Kenpachi liked Yumichika, he would help them.

Kenpachi looked down at his wreck of a kid, brow furrowed with concern. He'd just received a disturbing phone call from Yumichika's mother, and had pretty much figured out what had happened. Ikkaku had fucked up _bad._

' _Madarame-kun will not be permitted to stay again. We suggest as fellow parents that you look into correcting his misbehavior before he corrupts another child.'_

The impersonal tone of her voice… Kenpachi just shuddered a little. Besides, what a word to use, 'corrupt'. His kid wasn't gonna' corrupt nobody. He didn't know what they were talking about.

Here was his kid at his feet on the hard-wood floor, unable to breathe from the gasps wracking his body. He was trying to talk, telling him a quick disjointed story, but Kenpachi talked over him, squatting down in front of his boy.

"What's wrong?" Kenpachi asked, running a hand over his kid's scalp. "They said that you're not allowed to come over again. What did you do?" he said darkly, casting a disappointed eye on him, but the instinct that Ikkaku had been the one to do something wrong was lessening by the second. Something else, something else was going on.

Ikkaku was panicking, _shaking_ even. Kenpachi had never seen him so freaked out and he was getting seriously worried. He stood up, and Ikkaku got off the ground, trembling fists clenching.

Finally Ikkaku exhaled shakily, admitting what had happened, looking Kenpachi in the eye with such a desperate miserable look that Kenpachi ached a little. "I… I kissed Yumichika on the mouth and his dad saw," he said, voice quivering, "and- and-" Ikkaku was worried to tell Kenpachi, but he didn't lie, he wasn't a liar. It was too late to hide what he'd done, but he was worried Kenpachi would reject him too, that he was a bad kid and that Kenpachi would think he was just as sick as Yumichika's dad had. Why hadn't Kenpachi _told_ him that how he felt was wrong? That what he wanted to do was bad?

Kenpachi was going to be mad too now, Kenpachi would hate him. The whole world would hate him if they knew, wouldn't it.

"-And now I'm never gonna' see him again," Ikkaku choked out, expression absolutely wretched. Kenpachi crossed his arms, nodding when he heard Ikkaku had finally gone for it, grimacing as if to say, 'you dumb shit.'

"Yumichika'll be okay," Kenpachi said assuredly, not even mentioning that his kid had kissed another boy. In fact, Kenpachi was surprised it had been such a long time coming considering how _gone_ his kid was on Yumichika. Seeing Ikkaku so shaken, though, he knew Yumichika's father's reaction hadn't been good, whatever it was. It was no wonder Ikkaku wasn't allowed back over there. "You can't go back to his house and he won't be allowed to come here, but you'll still see him. You'll just have to deal with only playing with him at school from now on."

"No," Ikkaku said in distress. "He's gonna' get _beat!_ His dad was so mad!" he cried. "Please! Please go over there and help him! Yumichika's gonna' get hurt all cuza' _me!_ You have to tell them no! You have to tell his dad that we didn't mean wrong!" He clasped his hands like he was praying, holding them up and _begging_.

"I can't do that, Gaki," Kenpachi said patiently, brow pinching with regret.

"Tell them it was me! I made him! I did it! Please, it was all my fault, don't let them hurt him! I promise I'll never do it again, just don't let them hurt Yumichika! Please go over there!"

"I can't, Ikkaku."

"Please, please, Kenpachi," he begged. "Please, _please!"_ He grabbed Kenpachi's leg, slumping to the floor, crying at his feet, forehead on the floor. "Please, oh please!" he sobbed, breaking down completely.

"Ikkaku, I can't do that," Kenpachi repeated, something funny happening in his chest as he watched his kid grovel at his feet. He really couldn't do it, though. He got that Ikkaku was just a kid, despite how he tried to act, and to Ikkaku, Kenpachi was the adult, the person who can fix things when they go wrong, except Kenpachi can't fix this, which was making Ikkaku feel helpless, and you know what happens when Ikkaku feels helpless.

A tantrum would've made sense to Kenpachi, a violent outburst, but his kid was _bawling._ Ikkaku was really scared. Mr. Ayasegawa must've been pissed. Maybe it had seemed like he really was going to beat Yumichika or something, even though he didn't seem like that type of father. More like the kind to lock his kid away from the world.

Still, there was nothing Kenpachi could do. Yumichika wasn't his child, and he couldn't go and interfere. There wasn't a thing he could do, no matter how scared Ikkaku was, no matter how much Ikkaku wished he could take back what had happened. No matter how much Ikkaku thought Kenpachi could fix everything, he couldn't fix this. It was a hard lesson of life, but his kid had to learn that in real life there were no take-backs. It was too late.

Kenpachi scooped Ikkaku up and sat them on the couch, holding him in his lap, placing his wet head on his chest as he cried his little heart out.

* * *

Yumichika sat in the dark, sniffling, head knocking over and over against wood. He'd spent a few hours shut in the closet under the stairs now. He wasn't allowed to come out until someone came to get him. All he could think about was that his life was over. Ikkaku would never want to see him again, and his own family hated him. Yuji had seen them and told his dad what was happening. His mother had looked so disappointed, so heartbroken. His father was in a rage like he'd never seen. His sister-

The loud voices that he'd been trying to block out, trying to bang out by knocking his head against the door were penetrating his ears again, swimming in and out of recognition.

"-let him act like this, and now this is what's happened. I won't allow it!"

"Dear, maybe you are being too harsh. I'm sure he will age out of it if given time."

"-won't have it, my oldest son, a-"

Yumichika's eyes filled with tears and his chest ached, but he didn't have any more energy to cry, just letting the moisture drip out on its own. His father… His father didn't like him anymore. He'd known for a while, but… but…

Yumichika bit his lip and put his hand over his mouth, one last sob fighting its way out. He listened to the half-audible fight between his parents, all of it revolving around him and how he'd been given too many allowances and that now he was going queer, that if his mother had been tougher on him then this wouldn't have happened. If he hadn't been allowed to pick so many flamboyant colors, if he had been made to play sports, if he hadn't been allowed to grow his hair so long when he'd been young, then this wouldn't have happened. If he had been made to change, he would've grown up right.

He could hear his mother's soft voice and his father's shouting – his parents never shouted, neither of them, but his dad was yelling now and it hurt his ears. Yuji had been sent to a friend's house, and Naomi was probably in her room or something. Yumichika felt abandoned.

Finally Yumichika heard something loud and then silence. His father's voice finally penetrated the quiet, but he didn't hear his mother anymore. Again there was that loud sound, and as if he'd been shocked with electricity, Yumichika began hammering on the door, screaming. He gripped the handle and rattled it, only to find with horror that for all this time, he'd been bolted in from the outside. He couldn't get out, and immediately it felt like the darkness was suffocating him. He had to get out; he couldn't breathe. "Mom! _Mama!_ " he cried, kicking against the door as hard as he could, but it didn't budge.

He slumped against it, crying himself to sleep. This was how he'd live his life, wasn't it, in the dark with no friends and two parents who didn't like him the way he was, siblings who either turned a blind eye or weren't brave enough to help him. He was alone. Yumichika was alone, solitary, all but one.

When he woke up, he was tucked in his bed, but when he tried the door, it was locked from the outside. A slip of paper on the ground told him he wasn't to leave his room with the exception of set bathroom breaks, until he could be looked at by a doctor and cured of this perversion-illness. His food would be brought to him. He couldn't eat dinner with the family or speak to his siblings because of the risk of spreading whatever was wrong with him. He was an abomination, but they were going to try to correct him and let him lead a normal acceptable life. He would never see that boy who'd dirtied him again. He would be welcomed back into the family when he renounced his sick urges. They would take care of him, they would not abandon him, they wanted the best for him.

' _With love, your family.'_

Yumichika sat on the floor numbly, staring at the words until his sister knocked on the door and talked to him through the wood, comforting him the way only she could. She passed him cookies under the door and his homework from school, telling him about the tense nature in the family right now, but that she supported him how he was, that she knew what all this was about. She told him she was going to track down his 'little boyfriend' to tell him that she would exchange notes between them.

Somehow, that was what made the tears come back. Not after seeing how his father wanted to change him, but when he was given some hope back, some assurance that he wasn't the one who was wrong. That he wasn't sick or broken or crazy. That there were people out there who would accept him and love him.

"You're wonderful, Naomi," he choked out as she passed him his confiscated beauty supplies - the ones that would fit under the door. Yumichika cried harder and slumped against the door as if he could hug her.

"I've always thought boys should be allowed to be pretty too. Now stay strong in there. I'll be back soon for your note." Yumichika heard her footsteps leave and he scrambled for paper to write a note for Ikkaku. He hoped Ikkaku didn't hate him for the trouble he'd caused.


	8. Chapter 8

Isshin finally put his son on the counter next to him as he talked to the woman over the phone. He'd called social services, and apparently Ichigo had partially caught on, because he'd been tugging his pant leg and kicking him, practically running in furious circles on the floor in front of him. Renji was sitting and waiting in a chair at the table, knowing full well what was happening.

Isshin closed the door to his office, watching his agitated son glare daggers at him. The woman informed him that someone would be sent in the next few hours to pick Renji up, and he thanked her, hanging up.

Ichigo was upset, and as Isshin put the phone down and looked at him, Ichigo's anger soothed a little bit, making way for bitterness and blame, directed at Isshin. "I hate you. I'm never gonna' see him again."

Isshin crouched a little to get to his eye-level, sighing. He knew this all was hard to understand from Ichigo's side, even from Renji's side, but Isshin had to deal with things the difficult way, and he had to make Ichigo see that it wasn't as easy as just taking Renji away from that bad place and those bad people and letting him live here. Isshin couldn't do that.

"Look, Ichigo, if you really care about him, you have to accept this." Ichigo's lip stuck out as he crossed his arms tightly and shook his head with a grunt. Isshin rubbed his brow, becoming frustrated. "Do you really want Renji to be sent back there where those people are hurting him?"

Ichigo's head went down a little bit, but he made a 'no' motion. Isshin sighed, trying to be more patient as he put his hand on Ichigo's leg. "Even if you don't see him again, he'll be with people who care about him. He'll have a better future. He's going to have a family, Ichigo. Do you really want me to take that chance away from him?"

"No," Ichigo said. His son was mad, but he was listening now. Isshin nodded.

"At least you can play with him now until he gets picked up. Say goodbye. We'll find a way for you two to write letters to each other." Ichigo's face wrenched with sadness, because the reality of losing his only friend was really setting in, but he nodded and got down from the counter, going out of the office to spend his last hours with his buddy.

Isshin made things sound worse than they were. They'd be seeing Renji real soon if Urahara knew what was good for him. That man had better make good on his promise, because his son and his friend would be miserable otherwise.

It was a sure thing that Renji and Ichigo would be spending all their time together for a good while, but Isshin didn't want to get their hopes up just in case Kisuke didn't come through for them. But he would. Isshin knew he would.

He began fixing up their guest room and writing down a list of things that a little boy needs.

* * *

Yumichika hadn't come to school for a straight week, and needless to say, Ikkaku was getting antsy. He'd been beyond surprised when Yumichika's sister had come from the upstairs high school and met him in the cafeteria, delivering a short message from Yumichika saying that he was okay. Ikkaku was pestered for the rest of the lunch hour by all his buddies, who wanted to know just what the gorgeous teenage girl had said, and why had she been talking to _him_ of all people, how did he know her - Ikkaku just sat there in a daze, thinking.

Ikkaku spent the weekend making a card for Yumichika, a heartfelt thing that he put about an hour into, a drawing of them all grown up and sailing on a boat together, somewhere far away to have an adventure where they couldn't hear any of the nasty things people said. He gave it to Naomi the next chance he got, and it was a good thing too, because he didn't see her again after that.

It took about a week or two of not seeing or hearing from the Ayasegawa family for Ikkaku to ride past their house on his bike, only to see a moving van out front. He panicked - he admitted it - his heart completely _stopped_ as he threw his bike down and ran the rest of the way to the yard. He pestered the moving guys, who weren't taking things out, but moving things _in._ The place had been vacant, and a new family was going to live here. Yumichika's family had moved away a few days prior.

Ikkaku was devastated.

Kenpachi had already received a few concerned calls from Ikkaku's teacher about his behavior, or rather, _lack_ of behavior. Apparently, Ikkaku was daydreaming, bereft-seeming, vacant, and inattentive. He had no interest in school, or playing at recess, or even eating lunch. It was jarring, because Ikkaku was an energetic and eager boy who tried hard in class, even if he was somewhat of a goofball and a hothead. His teacher was very worried, but Kenpachi told her that he already knew what was going on and not to get too upset over it, that it was a home issue that they were dealing with. Apparently she'd put it together with the disappearance of Yumichika, well known as Ikkaku's best friend, but Kenpachi told her there was nothing he could do about what was going on with that family.

Kenpachi sighed, thinking about letting Ikkaku stay home from school yet again today when the kid couldn't get out of bed on time. He called in a vacation day at his work, and for Ikkaku too from his school, even though he was sick of seeing his kid so pathetic. He'd known that Ikkaku had had it bad for Yumichika, but Ikkaku was a _mess_ without him.

It was bad at first, because Kenpachi had had to watch the last little bits of hope fade from Ikkaku's face over time, and when he'd seemed to accept that he wasn't going to see Yumichika again, he'd lost motivation for everything. He wouldn't play, or bathe, or make his own food. He didn't go visit with his friends, he wouldn't go outside, and he wouldn't eat if Kenpachi didn't tell him to; he hardly even talked.

Ikkaku had spent weeks in bed and just lying on the couch when Kenpachi _made_ him get up, not watching the TV even if it was on in front of his face. This was much much worse than Kenpachi had imagined it would be. He'd been expecting Ikkaku to act out at school or at home, to snap in frustration, maybe take it out on the baby or the cat, but none of that happened. Ikkaku wasn't tearing the house up, he wasn't screaming, he wasn't violent. He was just dead and limp and _pitiful,_ and it had been that way upwards of two months.

He'd never seen his kid like this, and quite frankly, it was freaking Kenpachi the fuck out.

Eventually, Ikkaku wouldn't eat or get up for entire days at a time, and Kenpachi had had _enough_. He knew better than to try to force Ikkaku out of his gloom, to yell at him, or tell him to snap out of it, because Kenpachi wasn't a fucking idiot. He took it straight to the source, because he knew what Ikkaku needed was to hear from Yumichika, to see him, to get him back into his life.

Telling Ikkaku to get over it would push that kid over the edge. Kenpachi had to get this resolved somehow.

Ikkaku had _begged_ him that day, and damn it if Kenpachi wasn't going to do something about it, even if it was a little late. He had a bitter dislike for Yumichika's father - even more so now, after this whole ordeal - but he'd put up with it for his depressed kid.

After another month passed, Kenpachi got a new edition of the phone-book and called the Ayasegawa residence, which he assumed was far far away from where they'd used to live. Yumichika's mother answered in her usual calm pleasant tone and they had a short conversation with him explaining who he was and what was going on. He was surprised she didn't hang up on him immediately, but something seemed to be keeping her from doing so. He wouldn't have put it past Yumichika's father to do so, but she didn't. He hoped her motherly concern for Yumichika would keep her from disconnecting the line, because Kenpachi knew full well that Yumichika was a _thousand times_ worse off than Ikkaku was.

"Look," Kenpachi said flatly, "My kid's really worried about his buddy. We just wanna' know if he's okay." Kenpachi wanted to know too. The way Ikkaku had talked about what had happened had made him concerned for Yumichika's safety too, especially if his father had uprooted their whole family just to avoid this little 'gay' issue and try to smother it out of the kid. Kenpachi had no doubt that the man was unaccepting of Yumichika's tendencies. He was sure that he'd had some choice words for Ikkaku too, but Ikkaku didn't want to talk about it. Kenpachi thought the whole thing was ridiculous.

Sure, Kenpachi might notta' been happy if Ikkaku had gone all flamboyant either, but if it had been who he was, then that was that and there was no changing it. Besides, he and Ikkaku liked Yumichika just how he was: nail polish, longer-hair, diva-attitude and all. It ticked him off that the guy might be sending his son to therapy or an institution to try to 'fix' him. He could only imagine the types of shit that Yumichika had already probably had to listen to from his family, getting brainwashed into believing he was bad or wrong for liking somebody. These people were nuts.

Fuck, they were just _kids._

"Ayasegawa-kun is perfectly fine."

See, right there. How could anyone refer to their son like that? So impersonally, so formally, not even using a first name. Even Kenpachi dropped the formality and called Yumichika by his first name, and he was going to make a point to keep doing so. It made Kenpachi irritated to hear a mother talking about her son like he was a prison inmate, but he kept his temper in check. Yumichika's mom had always struck him as a nice lady, very beautiful, very gentle, very kind, easily swayed and intimidated, but Kenpachi would have no tolerance for any kind of 'your son corrupted ours' nonsense.

"And how is Madarame-kun doing?" she asked in return, seemingly out of politeness, but she sounded genuinely interested. "My son would like to know." Her voice got quieter. "He has asked and asked, but..."

"He's awful," Kenpachi said honestly. "Not holdin' up well at all. I had ta' pull him from school cause' he's to the point where he's so upset that he's makin' himself sick. He's got bad appetite and no energy- he's _ill._ This whole thing really messed him up. I'm not sure how you two handled things at your house, but when Ikkaku came home after everything went down, he was a wreck. He really thought Yumichika was in danger... I'm sure Yumichika's not doing much better, even if you say so."

"Our son is doing absolutely fine," she repeated, although her voice sounded a little pointed now. Kenpachi grunted.

"I know that's not all there is to it," he said, not letting her get a word in. She didn't hang up. "I _know_ it's not, so don't keep saying that."

She didn't reply, but he knew she was still listening. Trying to keep his voice-level normal, he went on. "I don't know what's going on over there, but no self-respecting mother let's a man – _any_ man – treat her kid like that, no matter what the kid's done." He could only imagine what kind of punishments Yumichika had received for an offense like this, and he didn't like what came to mind.

"Ikkaku told me a little bit of what happened, and I know _more_ than that happened once he left, but even that _little bit_ , no mother would stand for a stranger to treat her kid that way, and that's the same for yer' husband," Kenpachi said harshly. "I dunno' what you guys did about this, but taking Yumichika out of school and making your family move like he's some criminal is just ridiculous."

She seemed to make a sound of dissent. Kenpachi's brow furrowed. These people might be useless to talk to, but there had to be some motherly side that he could appeal to somehow. "You don't gotta' let our kids play together no more, but you do have a responsibility to Yumichika. He's in a toxic environment, but you don't seem to care much. If you did, you'd get him outta' there. _That's. All._ "

He grimaced, looking backwards from where he was holding the landline on his shoulder. "And uh, if you could pass a message. My kid just wants ta' say, uh… he really misses Yumichika and he's thinkin' about him."

Ikkaku lay on the couch, listening, blanket thrown over his legs as he laid on his side and stared at the wall. Kenpachi said his goodbyes and ended the call, not knowing if any of what he'd said had gotten through. He was glad he'd said it in any case, even if only for Ikkaku's benefit. That kid had to hear from an adult's mouth that they'd done nothing wrong, that Yumichika's parents had taken this too far.

Kenpachi stalked over to the couch and hunkered down when he saw his kid sitting up and looking at him, blinking a little, seeming more alert than he had lately. He lay back down when he saw Kenpachi come near him, rolling onto his front.

His brow creased a little, but with no real energy. Shit, Ikkaku's color wasn't looking so good. This heartbreak and grief shit was really making Ikkaku sick. Kenpachi frowned as Ikkaku croaked out, "What, are you mad at me _too?"_

"Why would I be mad, Gaki?" he asked with an exasperated sigh. Kenpachi sure was irritated at this whole situation, but he wasn't mad, least of all with Ikkaku.

Ikkaku's lip began quivering a little, but he seemed to be sick of crying, because he turned his face into the couch and mumbled. Kenpachi rolled his eyes, leaning his ear down towards his kid's back.

"Eh? Speak up. You're _sick?"_ He shook his head in exasperation when Ikkaku kept talking into the couch with a miserable whine. His kid was so fucking difficult sometimes. "Your tummy hurt? Do you need a puke-bucket?"

"-sick," Ikkaku mumbled again, face turning to the side. "I'm a sicko," he repeated, voice wavering as he looked up to Kenpachi with a worried one-eyed stare.

That's what _he'd_ said. That's what Yumichika's dad had thought about them. He was sick and disgusting. He was a pervert, and a… and a faggot. He was bad. He was a bad person.

Because even though they'd gotten in all that trouble and Ikkaku felt horrible… he didn't feel guilty for what he'd done. He'd had a long time to think about this, and he didn't feel guilty. He felt bad that Yumichika had been made to move away and stay out of school, he was torn up that they couldn't see each other, he relived the horror of being caught every day, but he didn't feel regret or remorse for what he'd done to cause that.

He would never regret kissing Yumichika. He didn't wish he hadn't done it, because he'd never been happier than when he'd done that – except when Kenpachi had adopted him.

He wouldn't take it back. He didn't feel bad about it, and if the kiss had been wrong, if Yumichika's dad and all these grown ups were right that they were sick, then… Ikkaku really was what they said he was. He was a sick person, he was a pervert and twisted and… and he'd liked it. He was horrible. He was a disgusting freak.

Kenpachi's expression softened immediately at Ikkaku's clear distress, and patience flooded through him. Ikkaku had lost Yumichika and that was bad enough. There was no reason to reassure Ikkaku that he might get Yumichika back, because that might not be true. Still, now Ikkaku thought that Kenpachi too would reject him, and _that_ he could assure him wouldn't happen. Even if Ikkaku grew to be a drunk, a felon, a punk, Kenpachi would still be his parent.

"Runt," Kenpachi said, putting a hand on his back, making Ikkaku look up to him with watery eyes. "No boy a' mine could ever be a sicko." Ikkaku's lip stuck out hard with the effort it took to keep his tears in, and he sat up fast and hugged Kenpachi around the middle, nestling his head onto his shoulder. Kenpachi sighed and put his arms around his back, pleased when a few minutes later, Ikkaku finally let go and got up to take a bath.

Ikkaku ate a meal, read a book, and bounced Yachiru in his lap a little. He seemed to be back in the land of the living, but not once would he smile.


	9. Epilogue

 

"Boys! Time for school!"

Ichigo yawned, wiping the sleep from his eyes and eagerly hopping out of bed, rushing through his morning routine like he'd taken to doing. He never combed his hair anymore; he didn't have time for that! He wanted to run and do things, he had to hurry! If he hurried, he'd have more time to play!

Finishing with brushing his teeth and making sure his shirt wasn't somehow backwards again, Ichigo ran out into the kitchen, helping Yuzu hop up onto her chair as he went, sitting down next to Renji where he was slamming pancakes like they were nothing.

After horsing around and eating for another twenty minutes, Isshin drove the two of them to school. They waved goodbye to their dad and led the twin girls to their classroom, heading off for their own.

It had been about three months now since Urahara had officially adopted Renji. Renji had a bed at the shoten, but he basically lived with Isshin and Ichigo, as per the deal made between the two adults. Renji had been transferred to Ichigo's class, and he was behind by a year, considering that he was ten now and Ichigo was nine, but Renji worked really hard to keep up and learn.

Isshin wasn't like the grown ups at the orphanage. When he brought home his graded worksheets and tests with 'good job' stickers, Isshin put them on the fridge with Ichigo's work so everyone could see and admire his hard work. That made him feel so so good.

He had visited Rukia's private school, having now had a chance to reconnect with her and rekindle their friendship. She was so glad for him that he had a family now, and Renji was glad too. Just thinking about it still made him wriggle around, even after this long to get used to it.

People wanted him.

He'd been heartbroken when the social service's lady had come to pick him up, taking him away and holding him in a hospital for almost a full day before he was told that he had someone who'd like to adopt him. He never even gotten _foster parents_ , let alone someone who'd wanted to _adopt_ him. It was a blonde man he didn't recognize, with a geta and a fan, and a striped hat.

He'd never been more surprised in his life after he was taken 'home' to a candy store, and Isshin and Ichigo were there waiting to take him back to the clinic. Kisuke Urahara was officially his foster parent and would soon be his legal guardian, but the Kurosakis were now his family and he was going to be allowed to live with them. Ichigo had been waiting there with a bouncy smile, and Isshin had asked him if he'd like to become a part of their family, and Renji had cried like he'd never cried before.

He got his own room, he got to go to the dentist and to the pediatrician, he got reading glasses, and asthma medicine, and he got new shoes. He got a comb with all the teeth still attached, he got dental floss, and clothes without holes, and he got fed every day. He got his own bed, and the sheets smelled like flowers. He had a house, and it didn't even have cockroaches in the summer or leaks in the rain. He got packed lunches, and none of the food was stale. He was warm and clean and full all the time. He didn't have to play outside all the time anymore, and when he did, it was at nice parks. Even better, he got to go to a new school with Ichigo, with a nice teacher who told him how smart and helpful he was.

Better than all these things he'd never known normal children got, was the way he was treated. Isshin let him call him 'dad' just like Ichigo got to, the twins loved playing with him and called him 'onii-chan', he never got yelled at or spanked, and sometimes Isshin even said 'I'm _proud_ of you.' It was so much that Renji thought he'd burst from happiness.

Of course, it wasn't all good. Sometimes Renji spit up from eating too fast, and he peed the bed sometimes from bad dreams about Ronnie, but Isshin was never mad. There were rules too, lots of rules that Renji had never known about. Smoking was bad. Guns were bad. Violence is bad, and so is talking about sex and private parts and bombs and drugs. Going somewhere alone isn't okay. Leaving the house without telling Isshin isn't okay. But there were also good rules that Renji liked, like no sleeping on the floor, you have a bed now, no eating off the ground, you can have another one, bathe with warm water, not cold, it's okay. Other things were harder to adjust to - don't be too rough, they're smaller than you, Renji, we don't curse in this house, we treat each other with respect, we don't lie to each other to avoid getting into trouble, don't hide, you know I'd never harm you, I love you. All of it were things he'd hear time and time again, over and over until they started to penetrate his brain and really stay there; the Kurosaki way was love and kindness and honesty.

Renji tried really hard to be a good son, he tried really hard in school and stayed out of trouble. He and Ichigo walked home together and people didn't bother them about their hair as much if they fought together. He was learning. He was becoming a good son, a good big brother, a good friend.

Renji was a good boy, he was good. He _felt_ good.

The rules were very hard to get used to, as there always seemed to be invisible boundaries that he was crossing, things that everyone seemed to know about except him, because he'd never been taught. Apparently they couldn't go outside without telling Isshin, they couldn't go out without telling Isshin, they couldn't be out for too long without checking in, they couldn't talk to strangers, they had to play only in _their_ neighborhood if Isshin wasn't there, they couldn't be home alone, they couldn't watch certain movies or TV shows if Isshin said no. They had to eat at the table, sleep in the bed, sit on the sofa and not the floor, even though for Renji's whole life, he had been told the opposite and given free reign as long as that free reign was _away_ from his caretakers, where they didn't have to deal with him. He wasn't used to adults caring about what he was doing. Usually all they cared about was that he shut up and stay out of the way. The rules had been hard to deal with at first, but it was clear that Isshin wanted to keep him safe because he loved him.

Sometimes he and Ichigo would go walk around town together – if they stuck together, they were allowed to go outside – and he would meet up with Grimmjow and his friends and they'd play. He'd realize how rough and crass they were, even Renji's past blue-haired buddy, and Renji would wonder if that was how _he'd_ been too.

He hoped they would like their new dad. Apparently the school's principal, Mr. Aizen was adopting a bunch of problem-kids at once, maybe running a half-way home or something.

Of course, Renji's favorite thing about his new life was having Ichigo with him all the time. This was even more than having a best friend or a sweetheart. This was having a _brother._ Maybe even more than that. Renji didn't think he'd ever loved someone more, even more than Rukia maybe. He didn't want to say so, but he still resented the fact that she'd left him on his own, even if it hadn't been her fault she'd been adopted. He was reconnecting with her, but Ichigo had been the one to give him so much, to accept him and show him a better life. Rukia had been his family then, but Ichigo was his new family.

They went to the aquarium as a family that weekend. He and Ichigo could wander off by themselves in the crowds as long as they held hands, which they'd done anyways. Ichigo especially liked the sea-turtles, while Renji liked the stingrays. There was even an area where they could stick their hands in water and the stingrays would come glide over their hands, flapping and splashing them playfully.

They stayed there watching the animals in the big tank and talked for a long time until they finally heard Isshin calling.

"Boys, let's take a picture! Smile," Isshin prompted, and they both turned. Ichigo grit his teeth in a way that was meant to be a smile, but fell pathetically short, while Renji grinned hard, entirely genuine, dimples creasing his cheeks, eyes scrunching up.

"Perfect. Let's go get somethin' ta' eat, you four," Isshin said, holding his little girls by each hand. Renji's smile faded a little as they left the building.

Sometimes he didn't feel included or like he was part of the _real_ family, but when Isshin held his hand in the parking lot, when he gave him that same look that he gave Ichigo and his daughters, when Yuzu and Karin played doctor on him with plastic toys, when Ichigo laughed at his jokes, he felt like he belonged.

He sniffled a little, smiling and rubbing his eyes with his skinny wrist. Ichigo looked back to him and beckoned him to hurry up, saying that they were leaving and not to get lost. Renji sniffed up the last of his tears, smiling wide and running after him.

* * *

"Do you think he's there yet?" Ikkaku asked, hands pressed onto the passenger window, nose scrunched on the glass as Kenpachi drove towards the park. It was an adult park, to be sure, lots of benches and lawns and gardens, no real kid-equipment, but this was where they were supposed to meet.

"Just calm down, ay? I'm drivin'," Kenpachi grunted, taking an opportunity at each stoplight to look back at Yachiru where she was strapped in her carseat, and the cat, which was freely wandering the vehicle. Ikkaku hadn't wanted to sit by them in the back today, too eager to be in the front so he could see everything easier.

"I can't calm down! I have to give this to him! Ah! I'm so excited!" Ikkaku shouted, gripping his own face. It was Yumichika's birthday, and soon they'd _both_ be twelve. They hadn't seen each other for long enough, and Ikkaku thought he would explode if he didn't see him _right now!_ He'd thought he'd never see Yumichika again, and now that he knew he'd get to see him so soon, he just couldn't wait any more!

"AAHHH! _There he is!"_ Ikkaku _screamed_ as they pulled into the parking lot, seeing Yumichika with his mom sitting under the gazebo at a picnic table with a cake. "Oh dang, oh dang, he got so pretty! Look at him, look!"

"I see."

"Ah, Yumichika! I missed you so much!" Ikkaku shouted to himself, as Yumichika obviously couldn't hear him from that far away with the windows rolled up.

"Oi!" Kenpachi shouted in alarm as Ikkaku threw the car door open and ran out before he even came to a complete stop, let alone parked. He just chuckled then, watching his enthusiastic kid tear ass across the lawn and _dive_ on his buddy, lifting him up and hugging him like crazy.

Only then, Kenpachi burst out laughing when he saw Ikkaku sheepishly let go and scratch the back of his neck, bowing slightly to Yumichika's mom, talking to her awkwardly. No doubt it was uncomfortable for the kid to know that Yumichika's mom knew that he'd kissed her son at one point, that he liked her son and had just glomped him right in front of her so eagerly. After how Yumichika's dad had reacted, it was no wonder that Ikkaku was skittish now. He looked like he was under the knife – Ikkaku _never_ bowed to people, even in situations that called for it, yet here he was, trying to make a good impression. Kenpachi grinned and shook his head. His kid was a true fool for love.

Kenpachi took a minute to unbuckle his girl and grab the couple presents they'd brought, heading out there. He lounged on a park bench a little ways away after nodding to Yumichika's mom, who beckoned him over insistently. Yumichika came over and timidly hugged Kenpachi, having missed him as well as Ikkaku. Kenpachi patted the kid's back, glad to see him again – he'd been pretty concerned, actually. He watched from afar as the two boys ate cake and practically sat on each other from how close they were smooshed together. After a five-minute battle of Yumichika's mom continuously telling him to come join them, Kenpachi gave up and headed over to where the boys were getting reacquainted. He'd wanted to avoid making small talk, but it seemed there was no getting out of it.

Soon the two of them were done eating cake and began wrestling in the grass – to be fair, it was Ikkaku doing the wrestling, and Yumichika just being a passive participant. Yachiru toddled around, frequently falling on her butt, sometimes getting knocked over by her boisterous sibling. It was pretty funny, considering Ikkaku usually toned it way down around Yumichika's family. Being reunited seemed to have taken away all his restraint, now that he knew Yumichika's mom wasn't going to be upset if he touched her son – Kenpachi never cared either, since he knew they wouldn't purposefully hurt each other or get into more 'adult' mischief. They were just kids, and kids should always be allowed to play.

Finally, the two lay on their backs in the grass, the cat settling on Ikkaku's belly. They seemed to be talking quietly and watching the clouds, pinkies interlinked. Once in a while Ikkaku would wave his arms in the air or point at something and Yumichika would prop his head up on his elbow to listen to him. Even after a mere year, it was easy to see on their faces that they had grown up a bit, but they were still so crazy for each other. Keeping them apart would be pointless. Kenpachi shook his head with a huff, grinning a little as he tuned back in to what Yumichika's mother was saying.

Yumichika's mom had been supporting her son in secret for a while. She was even going to allow him to have a skype account to still keep contact with Ikkaku in the coming months – she'd also driven him here for them to meet against the wishes of her husband. It seemed like she'd taken Kenpachi's advice to heart, but was it enough? He was surprised when she told him that she was obtaining a divorce.

"My condolences," Kenpachi said, feeling it was the customary thing to say, although he wasn't at all sorry. She shook her head with a small sigh.

"Don't bother. My youngest son is going to stay with my husband, but I had to do this. What you said…" She looked up to him, smiling a little. "Thank you for always taking care of my son." She bowed formally, hands pressed to her lap like a geisha.

Kenpachi got all stupid. "Aww. No problem. He's a good boy," he said, looking over at their kids.

Ikkaku held their cat up by the armpits by the cake. "Kitty?" he chirped, pursing his lips. "I have something sucky to confess…" Yumichika listened in curiosity, an adoring smile unable to leave his lips. He was just so happy to have his rough scrappy friend back. "You're adopted."

Yumichika snorted and then began giggling, head flopping onto Ikkaku's shoulder, and they hugged their cat together. Later they heard from Yumichika's mom that the two of them were moving back into their neighborhood. Yumichika missed his siblings already, but things were awful at home and he'd be glad to get away from it.

"Ikkaku?" Yumichika asked uncertainly. After everything had happened, all the trouble they'd gotten in… "Do you still like me? I mean… I know how bad it must've been for you…"

"Are you kidding?!" Ikkaku shouted, setting Haruki on the table to eat the remnants of the cake. "That's _stupid_ , Yumichika! You're _stupid!_ You're the one who got locked up and sent away and you're saying it was bad for _me…_ " Yumichika frowned quietly, eyes flicking down.

Ikkaku bit his lip. Crap. That hadn't been his point. "Of course I still like you. A real lot."

"I just thought… that… with me being gone for so long, maybe you found a pretty girl and thought it was less effort… and easier," Yumichika said slowly, "Maybe you forgot about me for a little while? Maybe even just for a little while?"

"Nope," Ikkaku said simply, grinning. "Nobody's prettier'n you, beautiful!" Yumichika smiled a little and Ikkaku turned completely red, slamming his head onto the table, mumbling something.

"Huh?" Yumichika asked, leaning his ear down. "What?" more mumbling. "Ikkaku, what?"

"Can I kiss you? Just a little one? Quick, while they're not looking," Ikkaku hissed, rolling his head to the side a little to peek at him with one eye, his cheeks still really pink. Yumichika bit back a smile as Ikkaku sat up. He leaned in, pecking Ikkaku on the mouth, who threw his arms around his shoulders in response, gripping onto the seam of his shirt.

" _Hey, you two!"_ Kenpachi shouted, causing them to snap apart, but this time not out of fear, but embarrassment. Kenpachi continued to tease Ikkaku for the rest of the day, getting kicked and punched by his angry humiliated kid a bunch of times, but he just laughed. Meanwhile, Yumichika's mom giggled behind a dainty hand and Yumichika kept touching his own lips, smiling.

"C'mon, Yachiru, say it – Yumichika and Bozu, sittin' in a tree-"

"Shut up!" Ikkaku raged, hitting Kenpachi in the stomach, doing little to stop him from talking.

"K-I-S-S-"

"STOP!" Ikkaku howled, grabbing Kenpachi by the belt and shaking him around, so mad that he could die. It was bad enough to have Kenpachi interrupt him when he was trying to kiss his friend, but to rub it in his face that he liked someone, just _ugh!_ He ruined everything! " _Stop! Stop! Be quiet!"_

"Alright, alright, but only because you're too young to have high blood pressure."

"Hmph," Ikkaku pouted, plopping down in the grass with crossed arms and then just collapsing onto his front, even the backs of his ears having turned red. He was out of breath and his throat hurt, but maybe it had been worth all that teasing to have that kiss.

"I have to go," Yumichika said, following his mom to the car. "But I'll see you real soon," he promised with a smile, waving.

Ikkaku held his arms open and Yumichika ran to him for one last hug, jumping onto him and wrapping his legs around him. Kenpachi got his car started too and honked the horn when the hug lasted for entirely too long. He could see Ikkaku's legs wobbling under the weight, but they didn't let go of each other.

"It's getting' dark, kid! C'mon! You'll see him soon, he said."

Ikkaku finally put Yumichika down and hugged him one last time on their own two feet, before they let go of each other, their hands slipping apart as they ran towards their cars. "Bye!" Ikkaku shouted out the window, waving until the car was out of sight. He smiled all the way home, even when he fell asleep, head knocking against the window. He'd see Yumichika soon.

It had only been 'ja matta', not 'sayonara', after all. Goodbye, not farewell.


End file.
